Learning to Live Again
by Peter Simons
Summary: This (still incomplete) story is about the relationship between Commander Tucker and Subcommander T'Pol that develops after ENTERPRISE has returned to Earth. The Xindi conflict is resolved, and now T'Pol wants to get her Starfleet commission.
1. Default Chapter

**Learing to Live Again, Part I**

**Summary:** This story is about the relationship between Commander Tucker and Subcommander T'Pol that develops after ENTERPRISE has returned to Earth. The Xindi conflict is resolved, and now T'Pol wants to get her Starfleet commission.

**Author's Note:** I owe gratitude to **Clicks**, **Jenna**, and **Vandiver** for reading early drafts of this texts and for providing me with much needed feedback. Thank you guys!

-------- 

It was good to be back on Earth. Only now did Trip begin to realize under how much _pressure_ they had been. How exhausted he had been. The first two days after their arrival had been strange. He could hardly remember them! They had arrived to a hero's welcome. A gigantic parade had been organized for them through the town of San Francisco, right up to the doors of Starfleet Command, where they received medals, commendations, speeches, and whatnot. He could hardly remember it.

He had been in trance. Too many hands to shake, too many questions to answer, too many cameras, too many people! He wasn't used to being around so many people anymore.

He had arrived on Earth. Now he was a hero. They all were. But what for? At what cost? He didn't feel like a hero, he felt tired.

After answering a billion questions and then some, their debriefing was finally over now. ENTERPRISE had to undergo extensive repairs, and the entire crew had been sent on shore leave for two months. Everything had been taken care of. They could use shuttles to fly around as they pleased, Starfleet paid all the bills, he could stay in whatever hotel he liked. He could do whatever he wanted.

He could walk into every research facility and the people would love to show him around, let him take a look at anything that interested him. He could visit friends, see his parents, or just stay on the beach for a few days. Whatever idea he had, he just had to push a button and talk to the manager, or to Starfleet, and it would be taken care of.

He knew exactly what he wanted to do: He wanted to spend as much time as possible with T'Pol.

Only now, after few days, could he really grasp what they had achieved. He had walked around in the city, just so, doing nothing. And the only reason he _could_ was because they had stopped that weapon. Then he had finally realized that it was _over_, that they had succeeded in their mission. Finally his gaze had returned to the moment, to the future, instead of clinging to the past that could not be changed.

He was alive. Now he had to decide how to spend his life. This gift he had received the moment he had returned to Earth. And he knew that he wanted to spend his life with T'Pol. The idea of saying goodbye and going separate ways was … just bad. He didn't want that. Only now could he realize how much she had changed him. How much knowing her had changed him. She had become important to him. He just hated the idea of not seeing her every day.

When had that happened?

When had attraction grown into something so strong? Was it the night she had offered to apply neuro-pressure for the first time? Was it that evening when he had stopped seeing her as a Vulcan? When he had realized how amazingly beautiful she was?

He had discovered that she was much more than a machine; that she knew empathy and compassion and humor; that she cared for others.

Or was it really the moment when he had discovered that she was vulnerable?

He couldn't tell.

He knew that he had still not dealt with his experiences in the Expanse. He was alive, yes, but he had not yet recovered. He needed her in more ways than one. She had helped him more often than he could count, and he still needed her help. It was being together with her that soothed him. She made him laugh. Was that possible? She, a Vulcan, made _him_ laugh.

He had felt for her as a friend for more than three years. Without knowing it, he had relied on her and trusted her. He simply had! He had not decided »_Starting now, I am going to trust her._« — he simply _had_ trusted her. When she had wrestled him into admitting to his attraction, he had probably been more surprised than she had been.

She had undermined his emotional defenses. She had walked straight through all his barriers, and suddenly he found himself standing right in front of her admitting to his attraction. And then everything had changed.

Was is love?

How could it not be?

He thought of her constantly, he missed her, he had difficulties focusing on pretty much anything else but her! And when he saw her, when they were together, everything just fell away and he was happy.

Of course it was love!

He just pushed the thought aside. He shouldn't think about things like that. That were all just words.

The point was: He had no idea what T'Pol really felt. He had no idea whether she really felt anything! He had no idea what her behavior in the past meant. He knew something was wrong, and he suspected he had something to do with it, but she had never told him what it was. He simply had no idea at all!

There was only one way to find out. He would spend time with her; as much time as possible.

-------- 

Never in her life had T'Pol looked into a mirror for other reasons than to allow her gaze to reach a point it could otherwise not reach. Now she looked into a mirror. She found it curious how great changes often showed in small things. It had never before occurred to her that studying your own face would serve any purpose. But she knew the purpose now: so that you could see who you were.

She looked into the mirror and wondered who she was.

The last few days had been very taxing for her. She did not appreciate being the focus of so much attention; she preferred privacy. But she had been moved that Starfleet had awarded her all the commendations her fellow officers received, too, even though she was technically not even a member of the crew. She had appreciated the gesture.

Finally she had found some quiet and had meditated, thought, and made plans. She needed to determine who she was now.

Her experimentation with Trellium-D had left her damaged physically and emotionally. In the literal sense of the word: damaged. She could no longer achieve a perfect equilibrium of logic and order. Her brain was physically unable to do it. This meant that she felt emotions constantly now. She could not suppress them entirely anymore.

At first, it had been immensely distracting. By now, she had come to accept the fact. It was her own fault. She had wanted to learn more about combining logic and emotions. Now she had. She would have to continue that path. There simply was no alternative.

She looked at herself and wondered who she was. The T'Pol she had been for 65 years was gone. But who was that person looking back at her?

She would have to decide now. Should she embrace her heritage? Embrace logic? Perform the _Kolinahr_? That was not what she wanted. And it was almost certainly impossible anyway. She realized, she wanted to live with the emotions. She could not go back.

Starfleet had been unexpectedly open-minded about her involvement. They had treated her no different than the rest of the crew. The welcome had been unpleasantly loud and chaotic, but it had been warm. She had felt it. She had felt welcome. Could she ever feel like that on Vulcan? With her history of defiance? With Pa'nar Syndrome?

She almost laughed at the thought.

No. She wanted to combine her emotions with her logic. And if such a thing was possible, then it would be in the service of Starfleet.

She looked in the mirror one last time, before she went to her terminal to contact Captain Archer. She had begun to see who the person was that looked back at her.

-------- 

Trip looked at his watch for the third time. He was early. He had tried to be casual about meeting with T'Pol, but it had been an hopeless attempt of fooling himself. He had even set an alarm to make sure that he would leave the hotel on time. And he had sat there and had watched the clock counting towards that alarm for 3 hours. Then he had left ten minutes early. Just to make sure he wouldn't be late.

He felt like an idiot.

Why was he so nervous? What was the big deal? He had seen her a thousand times … but this time was different.

For the fifth time he checked that he was at the right spot. Fisherman's Wharf, right where the Cable Car ended. How difficult could that be? He had to _relax_.

When he finally saw her, he swallowed and closed his eyes for five seconds. He thought of nothing. She had taught him that. He could see the wild, stormy sea with closed eyes. But he controlled it. And by the sheer power of his will, he forced the waves to dissolve, he imagined the winds away, and then the sea was calm.

»Good afternoon, Commander Tucker.«

»How can you sound so awfully formal on a beautiful day like this, T'Pol?«

Trip grinned. He could see that she was in a good mood. And indeed, she walked up to him and without hesitation laid her hand on his shoulder to greet him, like she had done more often recently. It was a wonderful gesture. It had an almost magical effect on Trip. He had grown to associate this gesture with calm. The simple fact that T'Pol touched him so intimately told him: everything was safe. Because he knew she would never do it unless she felt completely safe. And she had never before done it in public.

He laid his own hand onto hers, like he had done more often recently, and just marveled at the way they could say so much more to each other than other people could. No-one and nobody had any idea how much intimacy had just been shared here. With T'Pol, the _slightest_ touch was intimacy.

After a moment they released each other and T'Pol answered his earlier question.

»It is more appropriate than ever to be formal, Commander Tucker. I have news.«

»Now I am curious.«

»I will tell you later.«

»You're kidding, right?«

»Aren't you hungry, Commander?«

»T'Pol, please, just tell me.«

»I am hungry. We should find a restaurant, Commander. Can you recommend one that serves good salads?«

-------- 

T'Pol sure was mean, but at least she didn't torture him by insisting to be quiet during the meal today. He had fully expected she would. But she was surprisingly lively herself. She really was in a good mood.

Which was good. Because he had it all worked out. The first stop of their vacation was Death Valley. She would love it there. And if they were in the mood, they could even go to Las Vegas! He would love it there. But it didn't matter, really, they could do whatever they wanted. The important thing was that they did it together. And once she had _finally_ told him her _news_, he would ask her.

»Why is it more appropriate than ever to be formal, Subcommander? You wanted to explain that.«

»Because, Commander Tucker, you outrank me.«

»I do?«

»Yes.«

»Why is that?«

»I am a Cadet.«

Slowly his brain processed the information.

»At Starfleet Academy?«

»Yes. I will get my papers tomorrow: admittance number 247.«

»You're staying in Starfleet, T'Pol? You are serious?«

»Yes. I have talked to Captain Archer and it turned out to be no problem. Admiral Forrest himself gave the order to accept me into the Academy.«

»This is _great_ news, Cadet.«

»I hoped you would be pleased, Sir.«

»I am! How long will it take to get your commission?«

»Two months.«

»I beg your pardon?«

»I will have it before ENTERPRISE has been re-fitted. It is merely a formality, Commander. I only have to take the necessary exams. No basic training, no flight simulations, no lectures to attend.«

»You just show up, take the exams, get your commission, and are out of the Academy in _two months_, T'Pol?«

»I have estimated the time required for the preparation, added the time required for the actual examination procedures, and arrived at 1298 hours — including sleep and meditation.«

»You will hold _that_ record for eternity, T'Pol. I guarantee it.«

»I don't intend to set any records, Commander. I merely wish to become a Starfleet officer.«

»And that is _great_ news, Cadet.«

Trip grinned at her happily.

Until a sudden realization hit him.

»You start tomorrow?«

»Yes.«

»And you will work two months non-stop?«

»Yes.«

»Don't you need any vacation?«

»No.«

»You are sure about that?«

»Yes.«

»I see.«

He chided himself for his selfishness, but there was no denying: He was disappointed. That meant there would be no time together. That meant, he would hardly see her until they had to go back on duty. He tried to swallow the disappointment, he knew it was idiotic. She had just told him she would join Starfleet! Why was he disappointed?

»What do you plan to do during your _vacation_, Commander?«

»Oh, I have no idea yet. I haven't thought about it.«

»I will be in San Francisco for the next two months, Commander. Should you decide to spend more time here … I realize I will require a certain amount of leisure to compensate for the focused work during the day.«

»Leisure?«

»Yes. I cannot focus for two months continuously without any distractions.«

»So you would like me to distract you?«

»That is what you do best, Commander.«

He had no idea how she had done it, but all the disappointment had just _vanished_.

-------- 

»You would like to work on the COLOMBIA?«

»Yes.«

»Commander, have you all gone nuts? Archer refuses to leave the ship, Subcommander T'Pol intends to embarrass all of humanity by getting her officer's patent in two months, Reed has volunteered for duty already, and now you want to work, too? Didn't you all stand in this very office six days ago and explained in great detail why everybody needed shore leave?«

»Admiral, it may sound strange, I know. But I need a warp engine nearby to relax. The COLOMBIA has no Chief Engineer yet, I know the boys in Engineering there could use some help from someone with experience.«

»Don't you need any vacation?«

»This is vacation.«

»You are certain?«

»Yes, Admiral.«

»Fine. You are a hero, Commander. You can do whatever you want. If you want to work … so be it.«

»Would it be possible to get an apartment in San Francisco for the two months? I don't like hotels.«

-------- 

At first Trip hadn't been certain whether this was a good idea. Something about this discussion with T'Pol irked him. Why hadn't she talked to him about this before she had made the decision? He had _wanted_ to stay on Earth for a while. She could have gone through Starfleet Academy without working 18 hours per day, he could have written a dozen technical articles meanwhile, and everything would have been perfect!

He realized that he needed a change. To just go back to ENTERPRISE in two months didn't feel right. Many of the crew had talked about extended leaves of absence, about transferring to the COLOMBIA, about beginning a new chapter after these experiences. Every ENTERPRISE crew member could pretty much pick any position he or she wanted. They were the most experienced crew of the fleet. What an Ensign was on the ENTERPRISE could be a Chief Science Officer on any other ship.

Malcolm had been offered the First Officer position on the COLOMBIA. So he had volunteered to serve on the ship while everybody else was on vacation, to assess the ship and crew. That was just Malcolm, Trip had thought with a smile. Now he was on his way to the COLOMBIA, too. Perhaps he really was an idiot.

But once he had seen the ship through the shuttle window, he knew the idea hadn't been so bad after all. She was an impressive ship. She had been constructed with all kinds of enhancements, which were the result of ENTERPRISE's reports. What had been rigged up by his team, went straight into the designs of this ship. He could see numerous modifications that had been his idea. He smiled at the ship with pride. The idea hadn't been so bad after all.

Besides, what had he expected? T'Pol had basically invited herself on a date with him. Again! It was dumb to even consider being disappointed. Ever after that night in her quarters had she taken it slowly. _Very_ slowly. Considering how much progress he had made reaching her in the last two months, this was a huge step!

He simply should have never expected anything. He had to realize that this was more difficult for her than for him. She had joined Starfleet; she had two months of hard work before her, she had practically abandoned her life on Vulcan — _of course_ she wanted things to be under control at the moment.

He would have to give her time.

He almost jumped to attention when the gentle _thump_ of the docking clamps ripped him out of his thoughts.

And then he laughed. All things considered: He felt great!

-------- 

»Malcolm! It's good to see you on vacation.«

»You surprised me, Commander. I wouldn't have expected to meet you on duty for the next two months.«

»I just had to get a look at that engine. I hear the Vulcans have been more forthcoming with technology recently? Are there any enhancements besides what we have done?«

»Numerous. We use their injectors entirely now. I will show you around, introduce you to everybody.«

»How long have you been on the ship?«

»Three days.«

»How do you like it?«

»I have met most of the command crew so far and they appear to be very capable officers.«

»Of course they are. But how do you like it?«

»I enjoy being here.«

»You think you'll take the job?«

»I know one thing: Once you are First Officer, the next step is necessarily Captain. I could warm up to sitting in that chair, Trip. How about you?«

»I love my engines too much to become Captain, Malcolm. You know that. So, how do you get along with the other crew?«

»You'll meet most of them, probably. Everybody is eager to get her ready for the maiden voyage as soon as possible.«

»I remember that feeling.«

»Thank you for helping with the engines, Trip. The team really appreciates it. You are a legend down in Engineering, you know that?«

Trip laughed at the thought.

»Only because they don't know how much _luck_ we had.«

»Remember when we overloaded the phase cannons and almost destroyed that asteroid when testing the modifications?«

»Hehe, the silent aliens hadn't seen _that_ comin'.«

-------- 

This turned out to be more difficult than she had anticipated. After only two days T'Pol was already behind schedule. She had failed to anticipate the emotional element in her plans. She could not believe she had missed something so obvious! She felt emotions now, and they were horribly distracting.

She just could not relax, she could not focus. She felt threatened. She was used to being treated less forthcoming than others, she was used to being the only alien in a group of humans. But here it was different. She felt not welcome at all. She could hear that she was being referred to by her species when they talked to each other. Nobody seemed to know her name.

She ignored the emotions as good as she could. But that was not good enough.

What did she have to do next? 3pm … psychological evaluation. Wonderful. Just what she needed right now.

-------- 

»Commander Tucker? You have an incoming call from Starfleet Academy.«

-------- 

T'Pol had sounded strange during the short conversation, Trip thought while cutting the fruit that belonged into a _Savas_ salad.

He had been to the Vulcan compound and had gotten fruits, vegetables, and other ingredients required to prepare Vulcan dishes. A fruit salad was fairly simple to prepare, so he would try that first. He had _Pla-savas_ — which he liked best so far, because they were bright blue —, _Sash-savas_, and _Yon-savas_. Plus two other fruits, but he couldn't even imagine how their names had to be pronounced. He would have to ask T'Pol for that.

He had cut himself twice already, because his thoughts always drifted to T'Pol, instead of staying with the knife in his hand.

She had sounded strange. Almost meek. Weird. When had he become an expert on reading her? In that night in her quarters he had told her, he wouldn't have to be an expert to read her. But that was not quite true. You _had_ to be an expert to catch the subtle signs of her moods. He had become one, but since when?

T'Pol had changed in a subtle way in the last two months. She had become more open, more willing to engage in dialogue even if there was no logical necessity to speak. Every now and then, she even gestured! There was an expressiveness to her that had not been there before.

And curiously enough, these little slips in her control occurred only when they were alone. When she had stood on the Bridge, she was a _rock_. But when they had been alone, she had become … softer, somehow.

Was he imagining things? Or was she really opening up to him?

He knew his mind wanted to turn somersaults because she had called him. But he tried to remain skeptical. He didn't want to expect too much again. He would just be happy that she came for dinner, and see where it went from there.

»No wild plans this times, Trip!« he said to himself, then looked back down at what he was doing and pulled his thumb out of the way at the last possible instant.

-------- 

T'Pol walked up the street to the house his apartment was in. She realized she was walking faster than necessary. She would end up arriving early. But she also realized that was what she wanted. She wanted to see him as soon as possible.

Why was that? What was this effect he had on her?

She had asked herself that question numerous times, but she could not explain it. Perhaps it was the fact that he understood her so well? For the longest time she had refused to admit he did. But even when she still had been in full control of her emotions, he had often seen past that control. He had just guessed what she thought.

Back then she had found this curious. She had been fascinated by his capacity for empathy. But her perception had changed. She had come to realize how soothing it was to be around him.

Perhaps that was because he cared for her?

The sensation was still new to her, but she had grown fond of it quickly. Of all the emotions she had to feel, the ones she felt when she was with Trip were the most pleasurable ones. His presence was soothing. She felt safe when she was with him, she realized, because he cared for her.

Right now she felt like she had to combust from the painful sensations that buzzed in her head. She had underestimated the impact of these emotions significantly; she was certain that she wouldn't be able to meditate even if she tried! Everything had gone wrong so far — her plans were about to fail. She needed help.

Perhaps that was why she was drawn to Trip in this moment, why she wanted to see him as soon as possible. Because she knew he _would_ help her. Because she knew he cared for her.

When she had reached his doorstep and pressed the button for the door bell, she realized her emotions had changed already. And when he opened the door and smiled at her, she knew what the difference was. After the experiences today, it had become blatantly obvious: she always felt welcome around him.

-------- 

»The _Savas_ salad is almost ready, T'Pol. Why don't you sit down and tell me about the Academy in the meanwhile?«

»I realize I am early. I apologize.«

»What for? Just give me a minute.«

He could hear her wander around in his apartment, while he cut the last two fruits. And he couldn't help but smile. Who would have thought? T'Pol was curious.

»Your apartment certainly is larger than mine.«

»Are you complaining, Cadet?« he asked with a chuckle.

»Not about the apartment.«

That got his attention. He put the knife down and walked over to the doorframe, so that he could see T'Pol.

»Is there anything else to complain about?«

»Commander …« she began, but then didn't go on. Something was wrong, he could clearly see it.

»Are you having problems at the Academy, T'Pol?«

»I am not certain … Commander, did you have to undergo a psychological evaluation when you joined Starfleet?«

»Of course. Everybody does, I guess.«

»What kind of questions have you been asked?«

»What do you mean?«

»Were you asked questions about intimate details of your private life?«

»Hell, no. I just talked with the guy for two hours. He asked me a few questions, but I had the feeling he really just wanted to talk. These evaluations are mostly to determine your communication skills, I have been told. Why do you ask?«

»I was asked a lot of questions which I perceived as inappropriate, Commander.«

»Can you give me an example?«

»The evaluator asked me for my sexual orientation, for example.«

»He did _what_?«

»He asked many rather … intimate things.«

»Did you answer them?«

»At first. Then I told him that I failed to see the logic in his questions, because the information he wanted appeared to be irrelevant for determining my capabilities as an officer.«

»Damn right. What did he say?«

»He said: _Wrong answer_.«

»I hope you filed a complaint against the guy?«

»I tried to talk to Admiral Decker, but he was very uncooperative.«

»Admiral Decker is …«

»The Academy's principal.«

»Right. So what did he say then?«

»He said that determining my ability to function under emotional pressure was an important part of the examinations.«

»Emotional pressure? Are they nuts? What has that to do with anything?«

»Admiral Decker explained that as a Starfleet Officer I would have to deal with emotional humans under pressure. So, he concluded, that ability of mine had to be examined.«

»By embarrassing you with inappropriate intimate questions?«

»It appears so.«

Trip had to digest that information for a moment.

»There is more.« she went on. »I have the impression that my fellow students don't agree with me being admitted to the Academy. I have overheard several discussion between the other Cadets — between teachers, even — and they appeared to be outright hostile.«

»Towards you?«

»To my species as a whole.«

Trip understood immediately what the problem was. It was prejudice. Simple and stupid prejudice. After all she had done for humanity, these assholes still held her species against her. He couldn't believe it! In this moment, he was almost ashamed to be human.

-------- 

T'Pol felt powerfully drawn to him in this moment. She had swallowed and suppressed her emotions for the last two days, she felt physically sick because of all the negative energies she kept bottled up. She knew she had to release it. She had to learn to integrate these feelings into her consciousness. She had to deal with them. And the only one who could help with that was Trip.

Slowly she walked over to where he stood by the doorframe. She noticed how different his body language was from that of the other humans she had been with recently. How he didn't back away, flinch, or avert his eyes. He just stood there like a rock, she thought. He had become an immeasurable source of strength for her. He had become a focal point of her life.

When she stood before him, she reached out for his shoulder with her right hand, like she had done so often recently. The gesture had an almost magical effect on her. Every time he placed his own hand over hers in response, something changed. She could feel the warmth of his body. The warmth of his affection. It was soothing. His touch could replace those negative emotions by something that felt wonderful. She felt energized, invigorated — cared for.

There was something immensely intimate in their touch. She could not describe it … Maybe it was his willingness to touch her that made the contact so enticing. This simple gesture of affection gave her safety. She knew, all she had to do was to take one step closer to him, and his arms would embrace her and hold her.

And so she did. She took another small step towards him and molded against his body. Something in her was deeply happy and satisfied that his arms did indeed close around her immediately, that he held her and pressed her against him, that he shared his warmth with her so willingly. She nuzzled her face against the nape of his neck to protect herself from the world, to hide the powerful emotions that broke free and showed on her face. For a long time she clung to him and gave in to her weakness, until finally his wonderful warmth had drowned out any other sensation, until she had finally found peace again.

-------- 

»I may have made a mistake, Trip. I may have overestimated my abilities.«

»No way, T'Pol. Don't even think about that.«

»But it is the truth. I find it difficult to work efficiently under these circumstances, Trip. I know it should not affect me, but it does. I am already behind schedule — after only two days!«

»T'Pol, this situation is no different than when you came aboard ENTERPRISE for the first time. These people have preconceptions. That will change once they know you.«

»Will it? Why do they even react like this, Trip? I don't understand it. I chose Starfleet because I assumed I would be welcome to serve, now I find out I am not welcome at all. It doesn't make any sense.«

»Try to see it from their perspective, T'Pol. Most humans do believe that Vulcans think of themselves as superior to them. And we both know that's even true to some extend.«

»But I do not.«

»Right, but that's not what they see. All they see is that you go through the courses that were designed to take _three years_ in two months only. You don't participate in any classes, you don't take part in the simulated missions, you probably don't even eat in the cantina when you are on campus.«

»It is unnecessary to visit the classes, Trip. I know everything they teach there.«

»Of course you do. But that's not the point. The point is that you make your fellow students feel inferior. And that's exactly the wrong button to push.«

»You recommend that I eat in the cantina?«

»Yes. Just sit down next to some people and talk to them, T'Pol. Once they know you, the problem will go away. Just like it did on ENTERPRISE.«

-------- 

The evening had turned out to be wonderful after all. Trip could not believe he was sitting on the floor with T'Pol in his arms again. For the whole evening she had been outright affectionate with him, and he realized he had hungered for that affection. He had wanted to hold her for _months_. Now that he did, he could not fathom how wonderful it was.

She seemed to fit perfectly into his arms. It just fit. It felt absolutely _right_ to hold her like this.

Now he knew what had pushed him over the edge: It had definitely been the moment when he had learned that she was vulnerable. The moment when she had allowed him to see that she was not perfect, that she was not made of ice, like it seemed. Then he had begun to see the _woman_ T'Pol.

Holding her gave him purpose. It was deeply satisfying to care for her. Just the fact that she allowed him to, that she had shared her thoughts with him was enough to make him euphoric. He had gotten another glimpse of the T'Pol underneath. He had been closer to the woman he desired than ever before. In strange way, holding her like this was profoundly more intimate than their encounter in her quarters ever had been.

»Thank you for staying in San Francisco, Trip.«

He pulled his thoughts out of his dreams and looked at her. She returned his gaze without hesitation, and for a long moment they just looked at each other. Trip was mesmerized. They had lit a only few candles in the room, and in the dark her pupils had opened wide. Her eyes were black, completely black. They looked at him with a strange openness. He had always found them beautiful, but at this distance, in this situation, her gaze reached deep into his soul and touched him. He knew he was lost.

Finally she looked forward again, straightened herself, and got up slowly. He knew she had to leave. And he hated it.

»Would you like to go out tomorrow evening, T'Pol? I still owe you a drink, remember?«

»7pm?«

-------- 

»Admiral Decker? I hope I am not disturbing you. My name is—«

»Commander Tucker! Don't be ridiculous, I know who you are. Please come in.«

»Thank you, Admiral.«

»What brings you to the Academy on this morning, Commander? Would you like to enroll, too?«

»No.« Trip laughed politely. »I just wanted to see the place. It's quite an impressive complex.«

»It is, Commander. Everything is brand new, we are quite proud.«

»I can imagine.«

»Would you like to see some of our facilities?«

»Unfortunately, I don't have that much time right now.«

»Perhaps some other time? Or — now that have you here personally — could I maybe convince you to agree to teach a guest lecture at the Academy? Your work has been crucial for the development of the enhanced engines, it would be a privilege to hear your insights.«

»Really? I like the idea, actually.«

»Pick any date that's convenient for you, and we'll have it organized, Commander. Like I said, it would be a privilege.«

»There are some crucial modifications we made to the warp relays on ENTERPRISE, that could be an interesting subject for an advanced engineering class.«

»Perfect!«

»Of course, I just _performed_ the upgrades. The designs were made by Subcommander T'Pol. Perhaps it would be even better if she held that lecture?«

»I … uh. I'm not certain, Commander. It would be a special privilege for the students to have _you_ here. That might be even more important than the just technical aspect. The ENTERPRISE crew is held in very high rega—«

»Subcommander T'Pol has been on ENTERPRISE ever since the ship was launched.«

»Of course, of course. I just don't think it would be appropriate.«

»Why not?«

»I doubt she would have the time to prepare the lecture, given her aggressive schedule.«

»I doubt she would have to prepare the lecture, Admiral.«

»Commander, I understand your loyalty towards Miss T'Pol—«

»Subcommander T'Pol.«

»_Cadet_ T'Pol, Commander. This is a _Human_ institution, Vulcans don't teach courses here.«

»Once _Subcommander_ T'Pol has her commission, Admiral, Starfleet will no longer be a purely Human institution. Perhaps you should reconsider?«

»I might once she has her commission, Commander. But to be frank, I have my doubts. The idea that this arrogant Vulcan would ever command a Human starship is outrageous. She cannot empathize with her crew, she cannot truly lead a crew of humans in a situation of crisis.«

Trip knew he would explode any second now.

»She has done so numerous times on the ENTERPRISE.«

»But she had not been Captain. She only took command for short periods of time — and she had you and Lieutenant Reed to rely on. If we give her a commission, we'll have to grant her captaincy eventually. And before we do, I want to know that she can perform in situations of emotional pressure.«

Fine.

Trip got up from his chair, placed his clenched fists on the desk between them, and leaned forward towards the other man who backed away instinctively.

»Listen, you asshole. You and your fancy Academy would be dust by now, weren't it for Subcommander T'Pol. You only dare to pull this shit off because you know that she won't say anything. But I will. I will get the entire senior staff of the ENTERPRISE together for a press conference and explain in great detail why we think the Academy's treatment of our friend is racist. Then we will find out how _you_ deal with emotional pressure. Do I make myself clear, Admiral?«

-------- 

Trip had seen immediately that T'Pol was in a good mood when she had arrived in the evening. They had gone to a nice restaurant he knew nearby, and had ordered salads. But she wasn't silent during the meal, she talked like a waterfall.

»... then I tried to see it from Admiral Decker's perspective. And I realized that he was probably worried about my capabilities to interact with humans!«

»But you have done that for years, T'Pol.«

»Of course I have, but he couldn't see it. He couldn't judge it. It's illogical, but it's just the way humans are, Trip.«

»I see.«

»So I just went to his office and talked to him. It turned out to be no problem at all! Once I had explained my position, he was very reasonable. The discussion was very productive.«

»So these stupid evaluations are off now?«

»Yes and no. I proposed that instead of taking the exams, I would participate in the classes and simulations. There is no point in examining my physics skills, Trip. I know everything. But by the everyday interaction with the other Cadets they can determine whether I can cooperate with humans sufficiently well. Which is what they want to know — and what I have to learn.«

»That's a good idea.«

»That's what the Admiral thought, too. I should have spoken more openly with him right away!«

»So starting tomorrow you'll be sitting in classes?«

»Yes. And I do look forward to it. It had never occurred to me that my time at the Academy would be a chance to _learn_ something. I had assumed it was, basically, a waste of time. So the perception the other humans had of me was, in fact, correct. It is quite obvious now.«

Trip just sat back in his chair and marveled while she kept on talking. She was radiant! He had not seen her in such a particularly good mood for months. And all he could think about was that she was breathtakingly beautiful.

-------- 

Trip threw the door of his apartment shut, jumped through the room in a strange pattern, and just fell onto the couch. He nearly swooned with happiness. They had been to a Jazz club after dinner. He had bought her the drink he »owed« her, and they had spent a WONDERFUL time. She was a lot more reserved in public than she had been the evening before, but this only made the short touches they shared all the more valuable. Every time her fingers brushed over his it felt as if he had stolen from the cookie jar!

One song had particularly gotten to her. She had sat there with closed eyes and had listened, and her hand had lain in his in this moment. He had felt like a teenager!

He had to relax. He had to calm down. He wasn't 16 anymore, for crying out loud.

But it was just impossible: He was too happy to relax!

-------- 

T'Pol stood in the Academy's cantina and studied the available dishes. The salad appeared to be her best option. While waiting for her meal, she looked around in the room and found several other Cadets gathered around one of the larger tables. She could hear what they spoke. They talked about her. About _the Vulcan_. Perhaps it was time that she introduced herself?

Their discussion ceased when they saw her walking towards them. They looked at her with an expression of astonishment when she had finally arrived at the table. T'Pol found it almost amusing!

»Is this seat taken?«

She waited a considerable amount of time, but nobody said anything. So she just sat down.

»I hope I have not disturbed your conversation?« she asked, looking at the young man sitting opposite of her. He swallowed! It really was amusing.

»No, Ma'am. We were—«

»T'Pol.«

»Excuse me?«

She repeated it a bit louder, so that everybody could hear her.

»My name is T'Pol.«

The young man appeared to be thoroughly confused. But then his cultural upbringing seemed to kick in, and he reacted like he was taught to.

»Hi. I am Marcus.«

»Pleased to meet you.« T'Pol responded and offered her hand. He shook it without hesitation.

And suddenly they all introduced.

-------- 

Trip sat in his temporary office on the COLOMBIA and stared past the computer screen uselessly. He felt like an idiot for being so emotional. T'Pol wouldn't approve at all, he thought with a chuckle. He really should get a grip on himself. But how? And why? It felt wonderful!

He remembered the moment when they had arrived at the Jazz club. He couldn't describe it, but there had been something unbelievably fulfilling about entering the room together with her. That _this_ amazing women stood next to him had made him feel … Was it pride?

Yes, he knew he had beamed with pride. He had been the biggest fish in the pond that night.

What was it that made her so special? Why could she make him feel like that? Was it her looks? Was it the added kick that she was his superior officer? Was it because she was an exotic alien? What was it? Why had she so much power over him?

There was something mind-blowing about the moment he had held her in his arms two nights ago. The T'Pol he had come to know was tough as nails. A _rock_, really. She didn't need anyone or anything. She could not be pushed around, she could not be intimidated, she could not be coaxed or deceived. She was strong!

Yet, she had been so soft and vulnerable … Perhaps that was it? Perhaps, the idea that this powerful woman needed _him_ was what made him proud. That there was something he could give her gave him purpose. Caring for her and protecting her was so satisfying _because_ she was so strong! She didn't share her weakness with just anybody — she had shared it with him. She didn't need just anybody — she had needed _him_.

Wasn't that a good reason to be proud?

»Commander? COMMANDER? Huhu?«

Trip blinked, only to find half the COLOMBIA's engineering team grinning at him. When had they entered the room?

»Are you all right, Commander? You appear to be preoccupied this morning.«

»I …«

Trip was certain his face was bright red. He could _feel_ it.

»I wonder what Commander Tucker has been up to yesterday evening.« Ensign Benson said in a mocking tone, as if she were thinking out loud. One of the other engineers picked up the lead.

»It must have been pleasurable. Perhaps the new injector specifications arrived?«

»Yeah, that would explain the happiness.«

»Or could it …«

»You think?«

»A _woman_, maybe?«

»Listen,« Trip tried to deflect the subject, »aren't you all lacking a little bit of respect for the ranking officer here?«

»It would explain the happiness.«

»Perhaps that's the reason why he stays in San Francisco, rather than on the ship?«

»It would also explain all those calls from the Academy he gets.«

»Ensigns,« Trip tried again, »don't you think it's inappropriate to speculate about a senior officer's private life?«

»Why don't you end the speculation, Commander? We want details!«

-------- 

Two weeks later.

-------- 

T'Pol enjoyed the simulated training missions thoroughly. She had thought long and hard, she had studied the point from all possible sides, she had even recalled the appropriate chapters from the teachings of Surak — and she had concluded: She enjoyed it. There was no better way to put it.

In a way, she had almost nothing to do during the simulations. Performing her duties required less than a tenth of her focus. She could handle the console without looking, she knew all the procedures, she had been through this in the real world thousands of times. Nonetheless, the training missions _were_ a pleasurable experience. She might not be able to learn more about handling a starship, but she had made great progress in understanding humans!

As distracting as her newfound emotions were, she realized that listening to them gave her new insights. She could connect to the crew on a level she hadn't even known before. Suddenly, she could tell when a Cadet was nervous and needed to be reassured! And even more importantly, she was able to see how the humans dealt with these emotions, how they reacted to the signals they sent each other subconsciously.

She had never appreciated the delicate emotional balance a group of humans maintained, the _effort_ they put into reading and responding to each other feelings. She had known this theoretically before, of course, but now she could _feel_ how the atmosphere changed after a friendly remark, after giving someone a reassuring glance.

In retrospect, many of the questions she had not been able to answer became perfectly clear. Her initial difficulties in interacting with the ENTERPRISE crew were easily explained: She had not cared about anyone's emotions; she had not reacted to any of the signals; she had never picked up any subtle mood! Thus, they had not been able to communicate with her. They had not felt comfortable around her.

And apparently feeling comfortable around each other made a great difference in terms of the efficiency of the whole group. In a manner of speaking, it was _logical_ to attend to the emotions of the humans around her. Wasn't that a perplexing insight?

Would she have ever been able to understand that, weren't it for the fact that she felt emotions too now? Was it possible that her damaged control would, in the end, turn out to be beneficial for her?

She wasn't yet prepared to go that far, the memory of the distress she had felt was still too fresh to be forgotten. She would need more time to answer that question.

Absently-minded she registered that Cadet Meyers, who manned the weapons console, seemed to be shifting nervously. A look on her sensors told her that, in the simulation, hull plating generators 3 and 4 had just broken down. She watched the young man's hands fly over the keyboard, but she could tell he hadn't found the proper solution yet. She could see tiny drops of sweat forming on his brow.

She looked into his direction and waited. Somehow she knew their gazes would meet soon. And when they did, she mouthed the words »Relay 4« into his direction, careful not to attract any attention. He didn't understand her at first, so she showed him the number with the fingers of her right hand and mouthed »Relay« again. Then he understood, nodded, and turned back to his console. 7 seconds later, she could see the hull plating coming back online — and Ensign Meyers was smiling up to his ears.

TO BE CONTINUED


	2. Part 2

**Learing to Live Again, Part II**

**Author's Note:** I apologize for taking so long to get the second part out. I know very well how it sucks to be stuck on an unfinished story. Things will happen at a quicker pace from now on, I promise. So, without further ado … I hope you enjoy it!

--------

Trip sat in his office on the COLOMBIA and wondered about the future. It had been over three weeks since they had arrived back on Earth. Almost a month. But in a strange way, he felt like he hadn't really arrived yet. He realized, he had avoided most of the questions that his experiences in the Expanse had raised. Questions about the future.

What had driven him to Starfleet was an unbounded curiosity. He had wanted to learn about other species, other planets, about other forms of life. He had wanted to meet these beings, to see them with his own eyes. And he had! But as always, there were two sides to the coin.

He hadn't signed up for a war mission. He wasn't a soldier, and he didn't want to become one. Yet, he had killed many times. Following the attack, he had been so full of rage that he had _wanted_ to kill. He had sought revenge for what these Xindi had done to Earth. Revenge for the 7 million people they had killed. And most importantly, for one very special individual they had killed. And no matter how many hero's welcomes he'd be subjected to, no matter how many commendations he'd receive, it could not be undone.

He realized he had changed. All of them had. And it could not be undone.

Now what? What was he supposed to do now? Go back to the ENTERPRISE, resume his position, and pretend nothing had ever happened? Pretend all those crimes they had committed in the name of the greater good never happened? Pretend he could just shake off the pressure all of the crew had been under continuously for a year of their lives?

Frankly, he didn't _want_ to shake it off! Didn't his past actions define who he was? How could he put that aside and pretend it never happened? Wouldn't that mean to deny who he was? On the other hand, how could he possibly go back to that ship _knowing_ what had happened?

Small wonder he had tried to avoid these questions.

T'Pol had been like an anchor to him. She was the glimpse at the future that he had needed to stay sane. The perspective of sharing his future with her was what had determined his actions in the last few weeks. In a manner of speaking, she was his future. He wouldn't even be on the COLOMBIA now, weren't it for her!

And indeed, being on the COLOMBIA had given him a new perspective. Seeing these fresh-faced Ensigns, seeing and sharing their enthusiasm had reminded him of the time before fate had thrown ENTERPRISE into the Expanse. It had reminded him of a time when they had welcomed strangers on board, when there was no such thing as a _tactical alert_. When curiosity had driven them. And the longer he thought about it, the clearer it became. He could not go back.

--------

»Any plans for tonight, Malcolm?«

»Other than evaluating these tactical reports that just came in?«

»Actually, I thought more along the lines of hitting a bar in San Francisco.«

»How hard do you intend to hit it?«

»Very hard.«

»Count me in!«

--------

The other Cadets looked at T'Pol with wide eyes while she made a short pause in her narrative to gather her thoughts. Only three weeks ago, she would have found it illogical to — as they put it — _tell a story_. All details were readily available in the reports. But by now she had come to appreciate sharing her experiences with her fellow students. She found it stimulating, actually.

»… at some point the behavior of the crew became even more erratic! Lieutenant Reed had turned outright hostile, Commander Tucker was obsessed with fixing the Captain's command chair, and Ensign Sato flat-out refused to leave the galley because she wasn't satisfied with the results of her cooking. The ship was in great disorder.«

»What did you do?«

»At first I thought that the behavior was probably normal for Humans. By Vulcan standards, your species has a certain tendency towards … um, chaos.«

Several of the Humans groaned when she said that.

»I decided to consult Doctor Phlox — and arrived to find him just about to perform a lobotomy on Ensign Mayweather!«

»What?«

»He explained the Ensign had reported to him with a headache earlier.«

»He wanted to drill his head open?«

»I thought it was strange, too.«

--------

»Do you know what I like best about being back on Earth, Trip?«

»No, what is that?«

»Women in civilian clothes!«

Trip thought about that for a moment while clutching to his Bourbon for support. He had no idea why the chairs in bars were always designed to be as uncomfortable as possible. Especially when your balance was slightly off.

»Well, if that is true, then I wonder why you don't seem too eager to stay on Earth for a while.«

»What do you mean?«

»You are going to accept the posting on the COLOMBIA, right?«

»I haven't really decided yet.«

»Come on, Lieutenant. Who are you trying to fool?«

»Let's say … I am seriously considering it.«

»You _considered_ it three weeks ago, Malcolm. By now, it looks to me as if you've made up your mind.«

»It's not an easy decision. I don't want to leave ENTERPRISE. But a First Officer position is a First Officer position, you know?«

»I know. It's not easy for me either.«

»I beg your pardon?«

»I have been wondering about the future, Malcolm. About my future.«

»You consider leaving ENTERPRISE?«

»Yes.«

»Holy sh… I mean … that's a surprise. When did that idea come to you?«

»It's been on my mind ever since we've arrived back on Earth. It's difficult to describe. I just … I feel like I need a change.«

»Trip, I'll talk to Captain Hernandez about this. You'll have a commission on the COLOMBIA in no time at all!«

»That's not what I meant.«

--------

»… ironically, it turned out that Doctor Phlox's obsession with curing Ensign Mayweather's headache provided the clue to understanding the situation.«

T'Pol made another pause. She had discovered that artificially delaying the revelation heightened the dramatic effect of her narrative. The Humans were completely silent while they waited for her to go on.

At last Cadet Meyers burst out: »What was it?«

--------

Malcolm eyed him suspiciously. »What _do_ you mean then?«

»What I mean is that I need a change, Malcolm. I have been thinking about many things recently. And I can't help but notice that the things I think about don't involve being on a starship!«

He looked at his friend to gauge whether he understood him. But clearly he did not.

»What do you think about?«

»About staying on Earth.«

»Forever? You don't want to back to space?«

»Of course I want to, Malcolm. But not right away. There are _so many_ things I wanted to do. You know … staying with my parents, seeing my family, spend some time on Earth. I don't want to lose my roots here. And I'm afraid I already might have.«

Malcolm snorted almost with disgust while reaching for his Bourbon.

»I can't say spending time with my family is on the top-ten list of things I wanted to do.«

»How about founding a family of your own?«

Reed almost spit out the Bourbon he was about to swallow when Trip asked him that.

»Where does that come from?«

»You were the one who mentioned women in civilian clothes, Malcolm.«

»Right. But I don't think I am quite ready for _that_ yet.«

»When will you be ready?«

»Who are you? My therapist?«

»Does my memory serve me wrong or was there one depressed Armory Officer on the ship after he had found out about his life on the alternate ENTERPRISE?«

Reed just grunted.

»I am serious, Malcolm. Do you realize how many of our crew will never have a family? Because they are _dead_, plain and simple?«

»So what do you suggest? That I marry the first girl I meet just so I don't die without leaving a widow?«

»All I am saying is that _I_ think about that more often than not recently.«

At last the other shoe dropped.

»Is there something I should know, Trip?«

»I am telling you about it right now.«

»Uh huh. So … tell me more about it, Commander. Who is the lady that made you think about _family_? It wouldn't happen to be someone I know, too, would it?«

»I am talking about T'Pol.«

This time, Malcolm _did_ spit out the Bourbon.

--------

»The singularity emitted the radiation?«

»Yes.«

»Shit! If you had been affected, too, the entire crew would have died!«

»Fortunately, I wasn't.«

The humans were silent while looking at her with strange expressions on their faces. Ensign Meyers spoke up first.

»I guess, there is something to be said to having a Vulcan officer on board.«

»There is something to be said for having crew members with different physiologies on board, Ensign. There are as many occasions where the presence of Doctor Phlox saved our lives. And, of course, there were countless occasions where my Human colleagues saved my life.«

»Really?«

»Of course.«

»We'd like to hear! Tell us another story, T'Pol. What happened?«

T'Pol thought for a moment. She wondered what story to tell where her life had been saved. And for the first time in many weeks, a memory returned to her with force. The SELEYA!

»Another time, perhaps.«

--------

»For MONTHS you deny everything … and now you flat out admit you're in love with T'Pol?«

»Calm down, Malcolm.«

»Calm down? How am I supposed to calm down? You just told me you'd like to have kids with the First Officer of the ENTERPRISE!«

»Malcolm, I haven't even talked to T'Pol about this. I don't even know myself that's what I want. All I know is that things have changed between us. At least for me they did. But I have no idea what T'Pol has to say about it.«

Trip looked into his glass with a sudden flash of melancholy.

»I don't even know whether we could have kids.«

»Of course you know. Haven't we met your son?«

»Even if we _can_ have kids, Malcolm, I still don't know whether T'Pol would ever be … well, interested.«

»I had the impression you get along well.« Malcolm thought about his words for a moment, then added: »At least most of the time.«

»It is just too damn complicated! How am I supposed to court that woman, Malcolm? She isn't really the type who appreciates flowers and chocolates.«

»I had the impression you were well beyond courting.«

»That impression is wrong.«

»Is it?«

»Yes.«

»Then what is your status as of now?«

»We are friends.«

»Friends who give each other back-rubs three times a week.«

Trip just sighed.

--------

T'Pol had excused herself to return to her quarters. Something was off. The memory of the events on the SELEYA was an unwelcome one. Why had she thought about that? Why couldn't she stop thinking about it now?

Would this mistake ever stop haunting her?

At last she arrived at her room on the campus. She entered and — though it was against her habit — locked the door behind her. She needed to be alone. She needed to meditate.

--------

»So let me get this straight. There is nothing going on between you?«

»No. Not really.«

»What does that mean?«

»It means that we are friends, Malcolm. Close friends, that's for sure. But not more.«

»And you'd like that to change?«

»The sooner the better.«

»Then what are you waiting for?«

»Huh? What do you propose I do? Talk to T'Pol about my feelings? I have a hunch that's not the right approach to it with a Vulcan.«

»What other way could there be?«

Trip was stunned. Malcolm was right.

»You may have a point.«

--------

T'Pol just couldn't believe it. She looked at her shaking hands, completely unwilling to acknowledge the truth right in front of her eyes. She _still_ suffered from withdrawal! It was impossible. It was just … _unfair_.

For three weeks her newfound emotions had been stimulating. Exciting, almost. And in less than an instant they changed and turned against her. Threatened her. Made her feel weak. It just wasn't fair.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. If there was any chance of regaining control, then it was understanding the reason for those emotions. She had to face them. It was not possible that she suffered from Trellium-D withdrawal. She knew there was nothing left of it in her body. Doctor Phlox had confirmed it. She had been clean of it for over two months.

Then what was it? She let her mind wander and listened to her thoughts. And they led her to Trip. Suddenly she realized she had not seen him for over a week. She had been so buried in her studies, in the simulations, in all those new experiences, that she had completely forgotten to see him!

Suddenly she noticed how her thoughts invariably drifted to Trip when she felt like this. She noticed that she had stopped thinking about him as Commander Tucker. She remembered the words her older, alternate self had spoken to her about his role in her life. She remembered how often she had sought for him to soothe her. How much she had depended on him, after what she had done.

The room was only lit with a single meditation candle, but still it appeared as if a flash blinded her when she opened her eyes and looked at her shaking hands.

If this wasn't withdrawal from Trellium-D … then what was it?

--------

»Have you spoken to the Captain about this, Trip?«

»Has anyone spoken to the Captain recently?«

»I haven't.« Malcolm answered, and his voice sounded thick and coarse.

They both looked into their empty glasses and were silent for a moment. None of the crew had really said anything. Nobody talked to each other about their worries about Jonathan Archer. It wasn't necessary.

All they knew was that Starfleet had ordered Captain Archer to take a vacation and to not return for at least two weeks. He didn't say were he went. He didn't say anything at all. He had stopped talking to them long ago.

»Two more Bourbons, Trip?«

»Yeah.« Trip answered and cleared his throat.

--------

What did this _mean_?

Had she blindly substituted one drug for another?

No, she decided. Whatever the reason for her emotions was, it could not be compared to what the drug had made her feel. The longer she thought about it, the more she realized that the drug had never made her feel anything. Trip did. The Trellium-D had been a catalyst, nothing more.

She looked at her shaking hands. She had to understand what was happening to her. She had to get it under control!

Once more she closed her eyes and forced her thoughts into order. »_Think logically, T'Pol._« she chided herself.

Her means of finding calm was to release her emotions now. Why was this so difficult to accept? She _knew_ it. Doctor Phlox had explained it to her. Her alternate self had explained it to her. Her experiences at the Academy had made it perfectly obvious.

Then why in the name of Surak was this so difficult?

She hadn't seen him for 8.29 days. She missed him.

There! She had admitted it. She missed him. It was illogical to deny it. It was a fact. She just had to look at her own hands to see it. And the realization frightened her. She just couldn't help it. Everything she had thought was true for all of her live lay in tatters. She was right in the middle of Starfleet Academy in this very moment, about to get a commission to serve on a Human starship. She had become emotional. She even told stories to the other Cadets!

--------

»My point is, Commander …« Malcolm looked into his glass. »My point is … we need more Bourbon.«

»Damn right.« Trip said with conviction before slamming his empty glass down on the table.

--------

The problem with these emotions, T'Pol decided, was that they _distracted_ her. They made her lose focus. She could not allow that to happen. There was no point in worrying about what had been, could have been, or shouldn't have been. She was here now! She needed to focus. The most important thing right now was to get her commission.

Once she was back on ENTERPRISE, things would turn out fine. She just knew it instinctively. All she needed was a purpose to her life. She had lived in uncertainty for too long. She needed to get back on the ship, fulfill her duty, and spend as much time with Commander Tucker as possible. It was moot to question the path that was so clearly laid out for her.

She just had to walk it.

Already she could feel her distress unravel. Everything was so obvious! She had been foolish to question her decision. She knew she did the right thing. She just _knew_.

--------

»Wow!« the blonde girl breathed in awe, »I would never have thought I'd ever meet you guys in person.«

»Neither would I have.« her friend added. »You are much cuter in real life than on TV.«

»Ladies,« Malcolm tried to say with a steady voice, although that proved to be difficult, »flattery will get you everywhere. Please proceed.«

He looked at Trip, blissfully unaware of the fact that he was grinning like an idiot.

»I better head back home, Malcolm.«

»You can't be serious, Commander?«

»No!« both girls cried out in unison.

Trip just shook his head. »You know I have to, Malcolm.«

»Ah … crap. You are way to hung up about this whole thing, Commander. You should try to relax. Let's have one more Bourbon!«

Trip had slight difficulties standing up. Weird. Suddenly those chairs were awfully comfortable.

He shook his head once more. »See you tomorrow, Lieutenant. Thanks for talking.«

--------

Thankfully, his apartment was pretty close to the bar. So Trip decided to walk home. The fresh air would help him get sober. More or less.

He had made up his mind.

For a long time he had known he had feelings for T'Pol. Now it was about bloody time she learned about his feelings, too. He had waited far too long already, he realized. How did the saying go? Once you've realized you want to spend your future together with someone, you want that future to start right now! You don't want to wait. He certainly didn't want to wait any longer.

He would call her, meet with her, and just tell her. _Snap_, just like that. How difficult could it be?

He stopped walking for a moment and turned to the next street light.

»T'Pol …« he said to the street light. »This may sound strange, I know, but … the truth is … what I wanted to tell you for a long time is … GOD-DAMMIT!«

--------

Ugh. Trip was certain he had made a massive detour when he finally arrived at his doorstep. It felt like he had been underway for hours. After the fifth try he had given up on making spontaneous declarations of love. He was behaving like a school boy. T'Pol certainly wouldn't approve.

And that thought made him laugh.

»Listen,« he said to his front door. »I love you.«

God, it was so easy!

His front door remained thoroughly unimpressed.

--------

After gulping down half a liter of milk he felt much better. He took the container with him into his living room. He wasn't just ready to go to bed. Perhaps he should listen to music for a while? Something awfully romantic and emotional would just hit the spot right now.

While stumbling through his apartment, a blinking light caught his attention. He had a message.

His heart almost stopped beating. Wouldn't it be just _perfect_ if T'Pol had called?

»_Don't get your hopes up too high._« Trip reminded himself. There was a significant chance he'd be looking into the happy face of Malcolm Reed on the screen, telling him to change his mind and come back to the bar. It would be just _too_ perfect if it had been T'Pol. Coincidences like that never happened in the real world.

There was only one way to find out.

»_Greetings, Trip. I was wondering if you'd like to meet for dinner tomorrow? Or some other time, if that's more convenient for you? Please call me back._«

TO BE CONTINUED


	3. Part 3

**Learning to Live Again, Part III**

T'Pol really looked forward to seeing him. For 9.93 days they had not met. They had talked through the comm link, but that wasn't the same. She wanted to touch him.

She realized, she had really learned a lot. It was fascinating how _obvious_ many aspects of the human psyche were, once you understood their emotional motivations. She could understand it now, because she felt those emotions too now.

She had learned that she still had control over her emotions, to a certain degree. It came down to feeling the positive ones. Once she felt content and secure, she could focus without any problem. The only problem was to feel like that. Which was achieved through interaction with the other emotional beings around her. It was an intricate network of gestures, caring for each other, and sharing with each other. Through that, the negative emotions could be released.

Of course this required a conscious effort. It would take her years of exercising before the process would become subconscious. But still, the knowledge was soothing. She would not become an irrational maniac. She would simply control her emotions through a different process. She would evolve.

And finally, she had understood why Trip's presence meant so much to her: Feeling good around him required no effort at all. When she was with Trip, she could just _be_.

15 more minutes to go. She had arrived early. 9.93 days had been far too long.

--------

Trip saw her standing at the corner where they had agreed to meet. For an instant he hesitated. He felt strange. He felt a volatile mixture of fear, anxiety, excitement, happiness, and anticipation — all at once.

This was it. He had made up his mind.

He noticed that he had stopped breathing while watching her from a distance. And when he released his breath, it came out with a sigh. Oh boy.

He had faced hostile aliens, he had faced personal loss, he had been to the Expanse and had come back alive. Surely talking to this women wasn't _that_ difficult? What was he waiting for?

He breathed deeply one more time. He had made up his mind. This was _it_.

--------

T'Pol saw him coming to her and fought hard to suppress a smile. He looked good, she thought. Then she chided herself for that thought. What was the matter with her? She had to be calm.

But all calmness went straight out of the window when he had almost reached her. She took two quick steps into his direction to close the distance faster, reached for his shoulder, and touched him. It felt wonderful. An odd sense of satisfaction washed over her when he laid his hand over hers in response and smiled at her.

And then she just stopped worrying and gave in to the feeling of contentness that his presence brought along.

»It's good to see you, T'Pol.«

--------

»… it is very fascinating, Trip. Because it is just a simulation, I can pay attention to other things. I can focus on my fellow students, see how they interact. For so long I have served with Humans, but I never fully realized how your species is able to communicate through other, non-verbal means. I had never appreciated how a simple gesture can modify the meaning of the words a Human speaks. How subtle many of these aspects are! I have really learned a lot in those training missions.«

»So you like it at the Academy?«

»I neither like nor dislike it, Commander.«

»Of course.«

»I find my time there to be … beneficial.«

»You like it.«

»If you must put it like that.«

»How do you get along with the other Cadets?«

»Very well. It turned out that working together did indeed change their perception.«

»I knew it would.«

»In one case, it might even have worked a bit too well.«

»Now I am curious.«

»Cadet Meyers …«

»Yes?«

»I believe he has a crush on me.«

»A _crush_?«

»Is that not the proper term?«

»Depends on what you are trying to say, T'Pol.«

»I believe he _likes me_, to use your term.«

»What makes you believe that?«

»He brought to my attention that the other Cadets are planning a festivity. A celebration — just for the students.«

»A party?«

»Yes.«

»And?«

»He asked me to accompany him.«

T'Pol studied his face with great interest. Trip had always been very expressive; she had been fascinated by this the moment she had met him. But now she could read him like book! It was written all over his face that he didn't like what she had told him.

He was envious.

T'Pol couldn't help it. A smug satisfaction gripped her when she realized this. She almost grinned while he poked around aimlessly in his salad, pretending to be impartial to the news.

»And you said what?«

»I told him it would be inappropriate, of course. I even cited the regulations.«

»I hope that cooled him off.«

»I appears so.«

She kept looking at him attentively. She drew in every little gesture, every subtle twitch on his face. It was amazing! She had lost count of the occasions he had tried to get a rise out of her — and succeeded. But today, in this very moment, she had turned the tables on him! It felt wonderful.

»Of course I will attend the festivity nonetheless.«

--------

T'Pol hadn't felt so good in a long time. She had been so engaged in the conversation, she had lost track of time completely. Something had changed. She had changed. At last, she had begun to embrace her new self. Trip had made that possible. He was the key. Wasn't that amazing? For months she had lived next to him, oblivious to the playful tension between them. Now she was very aware of it. She couldn't remember ever feeling so _alive_.

»How did you spend the last 9 days, Trip? Is your time on the COLOMBIA beneficial as well?«

»Yes, I like it. The engineering team is very capable. They've improved the reactor quite a bit. Did you know COLOMBIA uses Vulcan injectors now?«

»No.«

»Apparently that will allow her to travel at warp 5 without any field distortions. Everybody is pretty eager to test it.«

»But you seem to anticipate problems?«

»We are using the latest model now, but we still haven't gotten the design specifications. We only have the designs of the older version.«

»Why have the designs been delayed?«

»I don't know. Vulcan paperwork, probably.«

»A former colleague of mine works in the shipyards, Trip. I could ask him for help. He certainly has access to the material, and since Starfleet is authorized to have it …«

»You think that could work?«

»I will ask him.«

»Great! Thank you, T'Pol.«

T'Pol leaned back in her chair, took zip of tea, and looked at the man opposite of her. He appeared to preoccupied. As if he was engaged in an inner monologue. She wondered what was on his mind. But she also welcomed the comfortable silence. There were many things on her mind, too.

She thought about the future. She thought about what it would be like being back on ENTERPRISE together.

At last he addressed her again.

»My time on the COLOMBIA is beneficial in another way, too, T'Pol.«

»How is that?«

»Seeing those people has reminded me of how much we have changed. We all have.«

»We are more experienced.«

»Right. It's just that some of those experiences were not the ones I wanted to make. I can't describe it, but the prospect of just returning to the ENTERPRISE as if nothing had happened feels odd.«

WHAT?

»I don't understand what you mean, Trip.«

»We have been out in space for over three years. So many things have happened … I realize I might need some time to handle all that.«

»I really don't understand, Trip. Are you saying you don't wish to return to ENTERPRISE?«

»What I am saying is that there are other things on my mind. I have been wondering whether to take a leave of absence.«

WHAT?

»Why would you do that?«

»Well … I thought it would be nice to stay on Earth for a few months. To travel around a bit — as a civilian.«

This could not be happening!

»You cannot be serious, Commander. The crew relies on you! The Captain relies on you! How can you even consider leaving ENTERPRISE?«

Trip looked at her dumbfounded. Clearly he hadn't anticipated this reaction. T'Pol breathed deeply. She fought hard to resist the ice-cold panic that crept up her spine. This was all wrong!

»You have never thought about taking some time off?«

»Of course not! Why would I go to Starfleet Academy, get my commission, if not to return to ENTERPRISE?«

For a long moment they were silent. But it didn't feel comfortable this time.

»Listen, T'Pol.« He placed his lower arms on the table and leaned forward, towards her. »I had hoped that you and I could take some time off together. We have known another for so long, but in a strange way we know almost nothing about each other. I would like that to change. I would like to spend more time with you.«

»We will spend time together on the ENTERPRISE, Trip.«

»Yes, but that's not what I meant. There are some beautiful places on Earth I would like to show to you. And I would also like to see Vulcan! I would like to do something else than going back into space and worrying about the next huge crisis. I would like to spend my time with _you_, T'Pol. Without an entire starship crew around us.«

All playfulness had left her by now. She understood what he meant.

He was asking for commitment.

He was asking her to take a step towards him.

For the entire evening this very thought had been on her mind — and she had enjoyed the idea! But now, in this moment, she realized she was not prepared. She simply wasn't ready! He was asking her to change her life yet again — now that she had _finally_ regained a sense of purpose to her life, he asked her to give up everything just again.

She couldn't do it.

»Trip, getting this commission is very important for me. I have made that decision, and right now it is the only thing I think about. It is the only thing I _can_ think about. I simply don't have the strength to worry about plans that go beyond that in this moment.«

»I see.«

--------

T'Pol forced herself to look at him, but he did not return her gaze. Her emotions were in turmoil. She knew instinctively that he did not understand her. How _could_ he? Suddenly she realized that he _no idea_. He didn't know about her Trellium-D abuse. He didn't know about the damage in her neural pathways. He didn't know about her newfound emotions. About the horrible conflict she was in. She had never told him!

He had no idea at all.

»Oh my,« he said while looking at the table, not at her, »it has gotten late. I think I better—«

NO!

She leaned forward and grasped his hand with force.

»Trip …«

Finally he looked at her.

»Trip, you misunderstand. You really do. Please do not leave.«

She closed her eyes for a moment and wondered what to say. How could she explain what she felt? How could she explain what he meant to her? How could she possibly explain something to him she had just _begun_ to understand herself?

She looked at his face again and a flash of pain went straight through her when she saw his eyes.

»Trip …« she tried again, »you are right. There are many things you do not know about me. I will explain, I promise. But I cannot do it right now. I need time. I need to focus on the decision I have made.«

»T'Pol, you don't have to explain anything. I apologize, I guess I mis—«

»No, Trip. I apologize. I have never really told you, but your friendship has been invaluable to me. I would never have gotten this far without you. Please be patient for one more month. Once I have finished what I have begun, things will change. I promise.«

His face soften when he heard those words. But T'Pol could see he was still in distress.

»28 days, Trip. Then we will have this conversation again.«

She watched him intensely, unable to breath.

Slowly, ever so slowly a smile crept back on his face.

»T'Pol?«

She just looked at him.

»You are hurting my hand.«

T'Pol could have combust with relief.

--------

When T'Pol arrived in her room on the Campus, she didn't even bother to try meditating. She knew it was pointless. Instead, she sat down in front of the mirror in her room and looked into it. She studied the woman who was looking back at her. She wondered who it was.

How was it possible that his simple request had taken her so much by surprise? Had she been blind? Had she been unwilling to see that Trip could not exist in thin air any more than she could? She had relied on him so often, accepted so willingly what he gave her — had it never occurred to her that he would ask her for something back some day?

She was deeply ashamed of herself in this moment. She felt like a liar.

Technically, she had never lied to him. She had just never told him the truth.

She had brushed him off a dozen times when he tried to speak with her back in the Expanse — and now these mistakes came back to haunt her. Again! By now, there was a _mountain_ of things she should have told him, and it was just not possible to remedy this situation during a casual dinner, just like that.

What could she have told him?

I regret to inform you, Trip, that I am a recovering drug addict? I have chosen Starfleet because there, frankly, is no other place I could go? I am an outcast in my own society, I have lost all control of my life, I am deeply insecure about the future, and I am just not ready to commit to a relationship at this point in time?

She almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.

She looked at the woman in the mirror and loathed her with everything she was capable of.

_He_ had accepted her request at face value. He had given her the time she had asked for. Again!

Powerful emotions boiled inside of her, just waiting for the tiniest cause to erupt. She was a mess.

They had parted as friends. She had stood on the sidewalk and had watched him hail a cab for her. All the while her instincts had yelled at her not to part like this. She just _knew_ it wasn't right. It was just NOT RIGHT!

Suddenly she was afraid that she might have lost him tonight. And then she truly panicked.

--------

Trip lay in his bed and wondered about his conversation with T'Pol. It had not been what he had hoped for.

The good thing was that she hadn't said _no_. Whatever it was that she had said, it didn't sound like _no_. It didn't exactly sound like _yes_ either, though.

What did she really say?

He was angry at himself for screwing the conversation up like he had. He just could not help it; it felt like things might have turned out differently had he just been able to explain. He had just been able to express what he felt.

But then … who knew? He thought that she had understood what he was trying to say.

Had she?

What _did_ he say?

He was a mess.

--------

Trip had lain awake in his bed for almost two hours. He replayed their conversation in his mind over and over again. It drove him insane, but he just couldn't stop it. He analyzed every little word he had said, every little word she had replied, he tried to recall even the slightest, completely subconscious gesture she had made, tried to understand where he stood now.

She had asked him to wait 28 days. She would have her commission by then.

And then what? Didn't her request implicitly mean that _then_ she would be ready to really open up to him? Or did it mean that — whatever would happen in a month — she was definitely _not_ willing to open up to him now?

To his surprise, his thoughts were interrupted by the door bell.

He swore to god, if Malcolm was disturbing him now to enquire about the result of his dinner with T'Pol, he could guarantee for nothing.

Thank god he didn't keep a weapon in his apartment.

He got up, walked over to the door, opened it, and looked straight into the face of T'Pol.

--------

When she saw his face, saw his genuine joy at her unexpected appearance, it was the cause her emotions had waited for. And they erupted violently. Like she had done before, she literally threw herself at him. She grabbed his face, pressed her mouth over his and fiercely demanded entry with her tongue. She could tell he was too stunned to react, but that didn't worry her at all. She knew he wanted this as much as she did. And when their tongues touched at last, all her bottled up emotions, the stress, the self-loathing, the guilt, the regret, the shame — it all exploded into blinding white lust.

She could not get enough of him. She consumed him with her kiss, drew in his taste, reveled the wet, warm intimacy of their touch. Without conscious thought she pushed him back into the room. She barely noticed the ripping sound his pyjama made when her hands tore it open. But she _did_ notice the heat building up inside of her now that her hands could feel his skin. She grabbed his flesh as if she owned him, her hands were glued to his chest.

Then another ripping sound could be heard — and she gasped at the sudden sensation of his hands massaging her breasts. She pushed herself into him, rubbed her pelvis against his, pressed herself against him all the while kissing him hungrily.

And then she could feel him. She could feel him grow against her burning flesh. After that, everything became blurred.

--------

T'Pol considered opening her eyes, but she was too exhausted to. She was completely spent. Their love-making had been wild and furious. Her baser instincts had taken over completely. And the experience had been deeply satisfying. She felt like she had been cleansed. Like she had been reborn. She felt completely different than after their first encounter, back on the ship. Back then, she had been under the influence of the Trellium-D, and it had numbed her senses to a certain degree. Not this time. This time, she had been wide awake.

She realized that she lay naked in his arms. Like so often before, he had soothed her distress. And by the way he held her, she could tell that his distress had been soothed too. He held her possessively. His arms were wrapped around her torso as if he was clutching to the most valuable thing he knew. But at the same time his embrace was gentle. It was intimate beyond anything she had ever known.

She allowed herself to remain in this state of laziness. She gave in to the intimacy. She drew in his smell and warmth. His presence gave her strength. Strength she needed so much for what lay before her. He was like an anchor to her, she realized. He had always been. For a moment she tensed and stretched her body in his arms, then relaxed again and sighed. She didn't feel ashamed at all.

Once she had moved, she felt him stir under her, too. He gently lifted her body up and moved her to the side. That caused her to open her eyes at last. Her face was only inches away from his, she noticed.

»What do you do?«

»I think we should close the front door.«

--------

T'Pol had great difficulties coming back to the real world. She could see the sun rising; she knew she had to leave. She had classes in less than two hours. She had allowed her emotions to command her actions for most of the night. Now she had to be disciplined again. It was very difficult.

Carefully she unwrapped herself from his arms and stood up. He sighed in his sleep, then shifted and moved over a bit to the side of the bed where she had lain moments ago. For one more instant she allowed herself to remain there and just look at him. She wondered whether he would dream right now. His face looked peaceful. It was an exceptionally pleasing sight. Should she wake him up?

No, she decided. Leaving now was difficult enough as it was.

She walked into his living room and found her torn clothes littering the path to the couch. And the memory the sight triggered made her feel warm on the inside again, like she had felt when they had wrestled with each other only hours ago. She could still pick up the distinct smell. She inhaled it deeply, and the warmth increased even further.

No!

She had to leave!

It was incredibly difficult.

--------

Trip awoke and knew immediately T'Pol was gone. It didn't take him a single second to notice. He could feel it. And although there was slight tingle of sadness, it vanished quickly. He felt far too to good to be bothered by anything this morning. He felt like an animal that had feasted for _hours_ after an eternity of being hungry. He was one with the world.

He buried his head in the pillow and focused on the smell. On her smell. It was all around him. It was wonderful.

At last he opened his eyes and surveyed the room. He looked for a sign that she had been here. Since there was none, he got up and went into the living room. His heart jumped when he saw the folded note lying on the low table. He took several quick steps and picked it up hastily. After unfolding it, he couldn't help but smile at her handwriting. It was exactly like he would have imagined. It was perfectly uniform and orderly.

It said: »_Trip, I had to borrow one of your uniforms. I assumed you wouldn't mind. I will return it to you. In 27 days. — T'Pol_«

For an eternity he couldn't stop laughing.

--------

Trip realized he had overslept. He would have to hurry to get to the COLOMBIA in time for duty. He would have to use the transporting device — a shuttle would take too long. Although it technically didn't matter when he arrived, he wanted to be there on time nonetheless. So he took a very quick shower, dressed, and stormed out of the apartment without bothering to shave or to clean up the room.

Half an hour later he stepped off the transport platform on the COLOMBIA.

»Good morning, Commander.« the Ensign who had manned the console greeted him.

»Good morning, Ensign Bergman.« Trip replied and smiled at him. Then he noticed how the expression of the other man changed.

»Are you all right, Commander?«

»Of course I am. It's a beautiful day, actually, isn't it?«

»Sure.« the Ensign said and nodded politely.

--------

»Good morning, Commander Tucker.« Ensign Benson greeted him when he entered the engine room.

»Good morning, Natalie.«

Trip noticed that the woman suddenly looked at him with a strange expression.

»Are you all right, Commander?«

»You're the second person to ask me that, Ensign Benson. I am fine. I feel exceptionally good, to be precise.«

She nodded, and suddenly her face took on a mischievous grin.

»I see.« she said, then folded her arms before her chest and continued to grin at him.

»Are you all right, Ensign?«

»Couldn't be better.«

--------

Trip settled down in his office and just shook his head. He had worked less than four weeks with this crew, but apparently they had become pretty good at reading him already. They must have noticed something extraordinary had happened to him yesterday night.

He fell into his chair, leaned back, and grinned at the ceiling. Hehe. _Extraordinary_ … you could say that.

»Good morning, Commander.« the voice of Lieutenant Reed could be heard.

»Malcolm! Good morning to you, too.«

»I was wondering how your dinn—«

He stopped in mid-sentence and looked at him wide-eyed. Then a massive, dirty grin formed on his face.

»I see.« he said.

»See what?«

»Congratulations, Trip.«

»What are you talking about?«

»What am I talking about? Are you kidding? Stop the pretense and allow me to be happy for you, Trip! Looks like you had an extraordinary night.«

Trip was stunned.

»How do you kn… uh, I mean, what makes you say that?«

»You haven't noticed?«

»Noticed _what_?«

»You should look in the mirror, Commander.«

Trip shook his head in confusion, then got up, walked over to the shelf, and picked up some replacement part with a polished surface. He looked into it and was greeted by his own face. Unshaven, but no different than any other day.

»Malcolm, seriously, what is it?«

Then he saw it. He had a bright-red bite-mark showing clearly on the side of his neck. It looked vicious.

Malcolm took a step towards him and patted him on the back forcefully.

»Congratulations, Trip.«

Trip kept looking onto the shiny surface. He watched the bite-mark slowly disappear while his face matched its color.

TO BE CONTINUED


	4. Part 4

**Learning To Live Again, Part IV  
**

T'Pol was in a cab returning to the Academy as she watched the city pass by through the car window. Although it was still quite early, the sun had already risen. She wished she would have been awake to see the dawn. She had lived in San Francisco for several years but had never taken the time to watch the sun rise over the bay. The image she envisioned at the moment would have been a very aesthetically pleasing sight in reality. But even so, the atmosphere was strange in the empty streets. Sunlight began to pierce the spaces between the tall buildings, driving away the shadows and creating all kinds of odd shapes and patterns that seemed to possess a life of their own.

Only a handful of people were out and about. Most of them walked with determination eager to reach their destination so that their day could truly begin; very much like herself. Unlike herself though, none of them was wearing a uniform that was at least three sizes too large, and smelled intensely of colleague with whom they had just spent the night. His smell was intoxicating. Several times throughout the ride, she would inhale deeply through her nose causing a barrage of memories to race through her mind. It felt as if he was in the uniform with her mere inches away. She shivered with pleasure when she thought of what she would do if this was actually the case.

T'Pol tried to reflect on what she had done but could reach no conclusions because it seemed her mind could only work in images. Impressions and memories from the previous night came back to her at random and without warning. Images of her lying wrapped in his arms, skin on skin, two bodies locked in an intimate embrace. T'Pol was grateful the driver paid no attention to her because she knew her voice would betray her if she had to speak.

She felt weak and unravelled after the experience. She dreaded the day that lay ahead because she feared that everyone would be able to see right through her. She had crossed a line last night. The implications of her actions were so completely out of her grasp that there was no way she could pretend nothing had happened. She was in a trance-like state, hyper aware of her body and her surroundings. It felt as though she was glowing underneath the uniform.

Then it hit her. There was no way she would be able to enter the Academy — let alone her room — without being seen. In her estimation, the chances were almost zero. In less than two hours, at least half the campus would know she had spent the night elsewhere and had entered the premises wearing a uniform that was not her own. A uniform that belonged to a certain »Commander Tucker« if the nametag were correct. Now T'Pol wondered what she had been thinking when she had borrowed his uniform. For all intents and purposes, she could have just as easily made a public announcement.

Regardless of her attempted analysis of the situation, the only conclusion T'Pol could draw was that clearly she had been acting on impulse. An individual did not need six different science degrees to understand how children were conceived. The activity she had chosen to engage in with Commander Tucker was designed with this very purpose in mind. There was not a single logical reason to explain her actions. No other Vulcan would understand her choice nor would they even _care_ to understand. Not that many Vulcans had understood any of her choices over the last three decades.

T'Pol felt like she had been torn open. However, it did not feel like a wound; more like a barrier that had been broken down. She had let go of her control, and now it seemed impossible for her ever to regain it. She had to remind herself that this was already a fact of life for her: she had lost the complete and total command of her emotions months ago. Still, the sensations were proving to be overwhelming at the moment.

Whatever thought process had prompted her to take these measures were a moot point now. She realized she would never be able to take back the choices she had made last night. For so long, her fear had paralyzed her ability to make a choice. After her ill-considered decision to inject Trellium-D into her bloodstream, she had lost faith in her judgment. She walked the path that was laid out for her deeming it her just punishment. She never considered it to be her path though. Last night however, she had done something entirely of her own volition. The fact that she had acted on instinct made the night's events all the more meaningful. An intimate, deeply personal desire had broken through her Vulcan control. She believed that a person was defined by their actions. Now that she had finally acted, she had finally defined herself. The person she was three years ago would have been shocked and appalled by her actions. The T'Pol of this morning was covered in the scent of a colleague and enjoying it immensely.

»Starfleet Academy, Ma'am.« the cab driver announced as he slowly brought the car to a stop by the entrance.

T'Pol was startled out of her thoughts by the driver's sudden address. She needed a moment to collect herself before showing him her Starfleet ID so that the ride could be billed. The Human took the card, and pulled it through a scanning device in a routine manner. A moment later, the device emitted a friendly _beep_, and the driver turned around and gave back her ID. »Have a nice day.« T'Pol offered sincerely before she got out of the car. She waited on the sidewalk until the cab had pulled away, then slowly turned around to face the entrance.

She knew she looked like a mess. Her hair was disheveled; her clothes hung off her awkwardly; her emotional control lay in tatters; and an arousing smell engulfed her.

»_Now,_« she thought, »_this is going to be a very interesting day._«

--

»Are you sure about this?« Denise asked breathlessly.

»Absolutely,« Danielle confirmed, »Stephanie and Michael saw her coming into the Academy this morning. At a very early hour I might add.«

»What were they doing?«

»Who?«

»Stephanie and Michael.«

»Oh!« the young Starfleet Cadet giggled. »They went out last night.«

»Finally!« Denise fell in happily. »How did it go?«

»I don't know much, but they looked, um, tired.«

Both women giggled, bubbling with mischief.

»And then they saw T'Pol?«

»Yes, and wearing the uniform of a certain Commander Tucker.«

»Maybe they worked together?«

»I'm sure they did.«

The two Cadets grinned at each other when they noticed a group of three other women rushing toward them from across the room.

»Have you heard?« they asked as soon as they were within earshot.

»Yes.« Denise beamed back at them. »Stephanie and Michael went out last night!«

The three newcomers just rolled their eyes. »Finally! Have you heard who they saw?«

»What do you think she and _Trip_ Tucker were doing?«

»Maybe he needed her to perform that full body touch therapy her species knows.«

»Oh come on, those rumors are nonsense.«

»Those are not rumors. Natasha can confirm it. Her brother must have told her some stories about their ongoing therapy sessions when he called her from ENTERPRISE.«

All faces turned to Natasha Rostov. She was tall with dark hair like her older brother. Like him, she moved awkwardly when her focus was on something else. It was funny to watch her occasionally because she would effortlessly solve a complex geometric equation in her head and use those numbers to calibrate a very sensitive warp reactor, then turn around and proceed to spill her coffee all over herself.

Now she was making a strange gesture with her right hand while trying to remember the conversations with her brother.

»My brother never really told me anything.« She gave up and shrugged. Then her eyes became dreamy as she added: »I don't blame her though. I wouldn't mind giving Trip Tucker a full body massage.« The young woman licked her lips.

The other Cadets just sighed. Natasha's crush on Commander Tucker was legendary.

»Let's be realistic,« Denise spoke up, »you are living side-by-side with this absolutely delicious colleague of yours, cramped into a small spaceship, no way to avoid each other …«

»Shhhh!« Danielle interrupted. »Here she comes.«

The young Cadets fell silent, and inconspicuously moved into positions where they could see the Vulcan without having to turn their heads.

When T'Pol walked by, they beckoned to her with tooth-rottingly sweet voices.

»Hi T'Pol.«

The women smiled warmly while watching her attentively. »How are you this morning?«

»I am fine.« T'Pol responded absent-mindedly. She seemed to be slightly confused and disoriented. Judging by her hair, she had showered very recently.

When the girls said nothing, T'Pol added: »I overslept. I have to be at class in … um, what time is it?«

»It's quarter to eight.«

The Vulcan looked taken aback. »Really?« Then her expression changed to one of confusion mixed with extreme relief. »I have to be in class for eight. I must be on my way. Good day.«

The Human women smiled sincerely. »Have a nice morning, T'Pol.«

T'Pol nodded, and began to walk toward the doors of the cafeteria. Stopping abruptly, she looked around, shook her head, and then turned around and went off in the direction of the main building. The other Cadets waited until she had disappeared from view, and then some just to be safe, before they burst out laughing.

»It appears,« Denise giggled, »that she's the one who got the massage!«

The women laughed heartily together while a twinge of envy began to creep up each of their spines.

--

»Michael, please concentrate.« John encouraged him. He gestured toward the other three Cadets who waited impatiently to the side. »We're all relying on you, alright? Try to remember … you saw T'Pol this morning, right?«

»Yes.« Michael nodded.

»What time was it?«

»Around 7 AM, maybe earlier. Stephanie and I had just walked in and were still saying goodbye when T'Pol came in too, wished us a good morning, and then walked over to her room.«

»What was she wearing?«

»A uniform.«

»Was it hers?«

»How should I know?«

»Stephanie says there was a nametag on it.«

»There probably was, but I didn't look. I had other things on my mind than what T'Pol was wearing.«

The other men grew more impatient by the minute. John looked over to them and made a give-me-one-more-try gesture to calm them down. Then he breathed deeply.

»Michael, give us your honest opinion. To the best of your knowledge, did it look like she had a boyfriend?«

The young Cadet thought long and hard.

»Yes.«

»What?« John's eyes went wide. »Just a moment ago you said you didn't even look.«

»I didn't see a nametag, but I still saw her.«

»Well, what made you think she had a boyfriend?«

»She looked happy.«

All of the other Cadets stood frozen and silent for a long time.

»Happy?« John repeated at last.

»Yes. She looked happy.«

The men were shattered.

John threw his arms up in frustration. »What a drag …«

--

»_What an interesting day._« T'Pol thought with a mixture of sarcasm and exhaustion as she entered her room that evening. She had been acutely aware of the fact that no matter where she went everyone's focus was centered on her. When she passed by a group of students their lively discussion would suddenly cease. The Humans would smile and seem friendly, but as soon as she would approach them, they would immediately begin to ask her questions about the previous night. She was in no condition to answer these questions, so she kept her distance and avoided the other students.

The weight of a mountain fell off her shoulders when she finally closed her door. At last, her classes for the day were over. She walked to her desk, and put down the books and papers she had been clutching to her chest. Then she simply stood there for a moment, wondering what she should do next.

T'Pol experienced great conflict. A part of her wanted to call Trip; wanted to meet with him right away. Another part loathed the commotion more rumors would undoubtedly cause. She had done quite enough already. She had witnessed firsthand the Humans' pleasure in relating rumors and gossip. It had not disturbed her back then, but back then she had been in a different position.

A Cadet at Starfleet Academy wasn't supposed to cause a raucous with her private life. Her position was already exposed as it was because of her race. Whether she liked it or not, the logical choice was to be patient until her graduation.

T'Pol decided to be strong.

She sat down on a small cushion in front of her bed, folded her legs beneath her, and straightened her posture. Once she had closed her eyes and opened her mind, hundreds of different sensations and images washed over her; feelings she had suppressed during the day. They were particularly intense tonight, but this was not completely unexpected. The intense visuals in her meditation no longer bothered her. On the contrary, she found that she reveled in her memories with a sense of achievement.

A small part of her was also pleased by the commotion caused today. The Humans' emotional reaction signified their acceptance of her into their intricate society. They cared about what she did. On the ENTERPRISE, it had taken months for her to achieve the same ends.

Of course, it was because she had not cared much for the Humans back then. She had ended up being in an isolated position among the crew because she had refused to communicate. She hadn't trusted Humanity; had been unable to open up to the Humans around her. Oddly enough, it felt different this time. Her impulsive act last night was like a bridge to Humanity for her. By her own choice, she had grown closer than any other Vulcan before her.

Her eyes sprung open. Suddenly, T'Pol realized that at this very moment she was refusing to communicate again. Her fellow students were out there asking many questions, but she was not out there to answer any of them. They were curious; they cared, but she was refusing to speak to them. What did she do instead? She hid in her room alone.

T'Pol was confused for an instant. She wondered whether the rumors were caused by the fact that she didn't explain anything. Maybe, instead of hiding, she should talk to the Humans?

Another drastic choice began to take shape in her mind while she slowly rose to her feet. She studied the clock on the wall, and determined that it was still quite early. T'Pol considered her new plan for several moments before nodding to herself and changing into her civilian clothes.

--

The Academy campus was quite extensive and beautiful. There were even two small lakes at which T'Pol knew many students passed their spare time. She wasn't certain if any students would be there tonight, but she decided to give it a try.

She headed for the smaller of the two lakes first. The path led her through a slight wood giving her the sensation of leaving the Academy behind. The mood was serene; it was almost possible to believe that one was far away from civilization.

When she came closer to the lake, her sensitive hearing picked up two hushed voices blending with the sound of the flowing water. T'Pol took a few silent, cautious steps toward the voices, and was met be the sight of two Cadets sitting by the water; the same two she had encountered earlier that morning.

The female sat in front of the male Cadet, between his outstretched legs. She rested her back against his chest while he held her possessively. He caressed her face with one hand while they whispered and looked at each other. T'Pol was mesmerized by the intimate exchange. She saw the female turn slightly in his arm and stretch her neck backwards, so that her lips were close to his ear. Instinctively, T'Pol took another step towards them, but there was no way she could pick up those words. The male Cadet smiled, spoke an inaudible response to her, and then leaned in and gently kissed her face.

T'Pol had to look away when she witnessed that gesture. Her face flushed from her own heated memories. She breathed deeply and gathered her courage, before daring to walk further in their direction.

At last, the Humans noticed her approach. Their demeanor gave no indication that they felt disturbed by her appearance; they waved for her to come over.

»It's good to see you, T'Pol.« they greeted once she had reached them. »We … um,« the male Cadet began, »we want to apologize.«

»What for?«

»We shouldn't have said a word about meeting you this morning. Steph and I had no idea what we were doing.«

»It was none of our business.« the woman confirmed. »We are sorry.«

T'Pol sat down next to them and considered this for a moment. »There is no need to apologize.« she concluded. »I do not mind.«

»You don't mind all the attention you got today?«

»I did during the day, but now there is a sense of relief.«

T'Pol saw that the Humans were confused by her admission. She hesitated, and swallowed before she added: »Commander Tucker and I have been friends for a long time.«

The Human female sat up, and studied her curiously. »You had to keep it secret?« she breathed.

»You can't keep any secrets on a starship.« T'Pol remarked dryly.

»Apparently, one can't keep secrets at Academies either.« Stephanie mumbled, guilt heavy in her voice, but T'Pol shook her head _no_.

»I really do not mind that the fact that I have a private life is no longer a secret.« she said.

»Well,« Michael offered with relief, »it certainly isn't.«

They were quiet until T'Pol wondered: »May I ask you both a question?«

»Of course.«

»You two will soon serve on a starship as well.«

The Humans' faces flushed a little when T'Pol made this observation. »We haven't thought much about that yet.« the female responded.

»Are you not concerned that there might be … obstacles?«

The female shrugged indifferently. »The regulations don't say anything about it.«

»What should be wrong about it?« Michael added, and reached for his girlfriend's hand. He looked at her for a moment, then turned his face back and grinned. »The work I do when she's around is much better than when she's not.«

T'Pol thought about this. »That is true.« she conceded with the slightest hint of a smile; then she had to look away to hide her expression.

For another while they sat in comfortable silence until the Human couple got up and began to collect their belongings, apparently getting ready to leave.

»We're going to the party.« Michael explained when he noticed T'Pol looking at them. »Are you coming too?«

»Where is it?«

»Over at the other lake. Didn't you know? They've built a fireplace.« He gestured awkwardly, and then smiled. »Nobody really comes here anymore.«

T'Pol quietly considered her options. The alternative was to return to her room …

--

Trip felt like a rock. He carried himself with smug satisfaction on the way back to the transporter room. For the first part of the day, he had been embarrassed because everyone had seen through him, but then he had realized what the mark on his neck really meant. From that point on, he flat out didn't care what anyone thought.

He knew the last thing T'Pol would want were rumors, so he had sworn Malcolm to secrecy and hadn't said a word to anyone else.

A deep calm come over him then.

He gave up on trying to think about his relationship with T'Pol in human terms. There was no way to predict what she would do. He only knew that she had feelings for him. Of course she handled them differently than a Human woman would, but they existed nonetheless. Her surprise visit was wonderful in its own right, but the message she conveyed with it meant far more to him.

He had asked to be let in — and she had granted him access. In human terms, it seemed inconsequential, but T'Pol was not human. For her to share her feelings with him was a huge gesture of trust and commitment. She had said so much by coming to him last night.

Absent-mindedly, Trip stepped onto the transport platform.

Something had changed between them last night. He used to have an abstract dream of their relationship, but now the dream had become tangible. T'Pol had shown him that she understood how important she was to him. She had shown him that he was important to her too.

What more was there to know?

T'Pol had asked for time so that she could get a grip on her own life before committing to his. It had hurt him at first, but now he understood. In many ways, she was acting far more maturely than he was. He needed to get a grip on his life just as much … something he had neglected recently in favor of worrying about T'Pol.

Now those worries were gone.

Trip calmly unlocked the front door to his apartment, and hesitated a moment when it swung open to reveal the somewhat unkempt rooms. A wide grin slowly spread across face. He closed the door behind him, and walked into the living area in small steps. He followed the line he and T'Pol had tumbled along last night until he came to a standstill right in front of the couch.

His grin grew even wider.

A dozen images sprang into his mind when he thought back. With ease, he could envision the moment of afterglow; the way T'Pol felt in his arms while they lay there exhausted, gazing into one another's eyes. Her naked skin had been so soft and warm; she had felt unexpectedly fragile to his touch. The tender sincerity in her eyes had threatened to overwhelm his heart. Trip remembered how he had leaned in, and had kissed her cheekbone helplessly.

A shiver brought him back to reality. Trip sighed, picked up his shirt from the floor, and headed towards the kitchen.

Thoughts of the future started to take shape in his mind while he began to clean up the dishes. He had less than four weeks to figure out what he wanted to do. Everyone around him was forging some kind of career. Malcolm would probably transfer, and T'Pol would get her commission. As it stood, half of his engineering staff had offers from science projects or other ships. Whatever happened when the vacation was over, there would be a lot of change within Starfleet.

Trip had stumbled into serving on the COLUMBIA, but it had turned out to be a fortunate coincidence because it had given him a fresh perspective on his own ship. ENTERPRISE had de facto become the Earth flagship. Ever since her launch, the crew had represented Earth to other species just as much as they had been scientists and explorers. Over the years, however, the nature of ENTERPRISE's endeavors had become increasingly political. It wasn't that any of them were politicians or diplomats by any means, it just had to be done!

When he listened to the young Ensigns on the COLUMBIA talk and wonder about the adventures they would experience on their missions, it sounded as if they were talking about an entirely different kind of space travel than he knew. At first, he thought they were simply naive and inexperienced, but now he wasn't so sure.

When Trip compared the Jonathan Archer he had known three years ago to the man he knew now, the price they paid became glaringly obvious to him. A part of what made the life that faced him now difficult to adjust to was that he had avoided any thoughts of a future for the last 15 months. Everyone on the ship had, because they were afraid that there wouldn't be a future for them to return to. It felt as if he had been living a continuous nightmare. He had become so accustomed to it that he now had trouble letting it go.

The one thing he knew for sure was that he didn't want to become a soldier. He had once come frighteningly close to a state of mind where he could kill without remorse. He could not let that happen again.

Trip thought back to their early missions. He remembered how he had once possessed a love of building things, and an unbounded curiosity for exploring space and nature. What became of that person? He knew he wanted to be this person again. He realized that to move forward, he had to take a step back. T'Pol had been crucial to saving the entire planet, yet now she had to earn her commission! Maybe it was no different for him? Maybe he had to learn how to be an engineer again?

T'Pol's visit had changed his perspective. The future was real, and surprisingly immediate. He and T'Pol still had a difficult road ahead of them, but dreaming about it wouldn't make it happen. She was right. They both had to clear their heads, and then they could meet anew and find a way to be together. They belonged together. He had never been more certain of that.

Suddenly he wondered … should he call her?

Trip bit his lip in conflict.

Technically, he probably wasn't supposed to. On the other hand, what harm could it possibly do? He had received quite a few interesting comments over the course of the day, and he wanted to share some of the funnier ones with her. Frankly, he wanted to see her face.

With an odd sense of dread, Trip took a step to the side so that he could look through the kitchen door. The screen of the comm device hung ominously dark on a wall in the living area, and looked back at him.

--

The first few moments after her arrival had been uncomfortable. The Humans clearly hadn't expected her, but their demeanor conveyed nothing more than curiosity. More importantly, they did not appear to mind her presence. T'Pol was no less curious than they were. She had never visited a social gathering among the students before. The first thing she noticed was that nobody wore a uniform, and with relief she realized: neither was she.

The students had lit a moderate-sized bonfire close by the water. Its light reflected beautifully on the surface of the small lake. T'Pol could feel the fire's heat even though she stood meters away. For an instant, she felt drawn towards the warmth. It wasn't that she was cold on Earth, it was just that she would have preferred it to be warmer on Earth, especially in the evening hours. Without thinking, T'Pol took a few steps closer to the fire, and enjoyed the gentle heat that hung in the air around it. Thoughts of Vulcan entered her mind. When she had been little, she and her parents had often sat by a fire in the evening.

Then T'Pol smiled the barest hint of a smile. She realized that in the evening hours, it was _far_ colder in the deserts of Vulcan than on Earth. She should consider herself lucky to be here.

T'Pol turned around, and studied her surroundings more closely while standing with her back to the fire. She knew most of the Cadets from classes, or from having talked to them in the cafeteria. They stood in small groups or sat on the ground in circles. They were engaged in lively discussions. Most Humans smiled or laughed, and the atmosphere was light and pleasant. It reminded her of Movie Night.

For a prolonged moment, T'Pol simply stood by the fire, uncertain how to proceed, but then she shook off her concerns and simply walked over to a group of females whom she knew fairly well.

»Hello.« she greeted them.

»Hi T'Pol.« several of them responded. Cadet Mahoon, a tall woman with long dark hair, leaned closer to her and spoke in a low voice. »I didn't expect to see you here tonight. You looked tired today. Are you alright?«

»I did experience some fatigue,« T'Pol conceded, »but now I am fine.« She hesitated for another brief moment to think about an expression that would be sufficiently vague.

»I went out last night.«

The Humans grinned happily at her.

»So we've heard!«

--

»_Would you like to leave a message?_« the comm operator asked him in a friendly tone.

Trip leaned back in his chair and drifted in thought. He knew T'Pol's comm device would show her that he called.

»No, thanks.«

»_Have a pleasant evening, Commander._« the woman said, and then the screen went dark.

Trip just sat in his chair and continued to stare at the blank screen for a while. He fought hard against the disappointment that threatened to overwhelm him. He knew he shouldn't be disappointed. He knew perfectly well that T'Pol had a busy schedule. He also knew that less than 24 hours ago, they had agreed to give it time, to be patient for just a few more weeks so that other, more important matters could be dealt with first.

Still, this knowledge didn't help him much in moments like these. He just wanted to see her face.

»_26 days …_« he reminded himself. Trip sighed, got up from his desk, and paced aimlessly around his apartment. He wondered what T'Pol was doing at that very moment. Could she be thinking about him? Would she miss him as much as he missed her?

»_Probably not._« he thought with amusement.

--

»He is a decent engineer.« T'Pol said matter-of-factly.

The Human women rolled their eyes and groaned slightly, then leveled her with raised eyebrows.

»Right. And?«

T'Pol found herself struggling for words. She had thought about Trip for the better part of the day, but now that she was being asked to describe him she didn't know what to say.

»It is difficult to describe Commander Tucker. When I first saw him, he appeared to be undisciplined and far too young to be a Chief Engineer of Humanity's first Warp 5 ship. When I learned that he and Captain Archer were close friends, I assumed that the Captain had requested him for emotional reasons.«

»But you were wrong?«

»I was wrong to question Captain Archer's judgment. Commander Tucker has been invaluable as an engineer, but to many of the crew he is even more important as a counselor and as a friend.«

The Human women smiled knowingly.

»You two became friends.«

All kinds of thoughts raced through T'Pol's mind when she thought back to the events that had shaped their relationship. How he had read her letter, and then admitted to it and apologized even though it was not necessary. How he had invited her to Movie Night. How he had never ceased to ask her questions, to challenge her, to try to and get a rise out of her.

She shook her head in disbelief when she realized how much time had passed since those days.

»It simply happened.« T'Pol said, as if to defend herself. It was the truth. She remembered the moment she had said the word _friend_ in his presence for the first time, but she could not recall when she had begun to see him that way.

»We became very close friends.« she concluded at last.

The Humans considered her words silently for a moment. They looked at her with unexpectedly earnest expressions.

»Do Vulcans usually have a lot a friends?« Cadet Mahoon wondered in a soft voice.

T'Pol was startled by the question. The moment she heard it, she realized where it lead, and she wondered whether she was prepared to be this open with her fellow Cadets. She studied the three Human females who stood close to her. She realized she had to make yet another decision.

»No,« she decided, »Vulcans do not usually have friends.«

»But you do?«

»Yes.«

»Do you have many friends?«

T'Pol hesitated for one more moment. She had doubts about the course of this conversation, but she also realized it was too late. The Humans had understood her better than she understood herself.

»No,« she said and looked at them, »Commander Tucker is my only friend.«

TO BE CONTINUED


	5. Part 5

**Learning To Live Again, Part 5**

»Is this really true, T'Pol?« Cadet Mahoon wondered with surprise showing on her face. »You must have more than one friend. You have more friends here in the Academy.«

T'Pol realized that this was a delicate subject. She did not wish to offend the other Cadets, so she measured her words carefully. Humans used the word friendship with a different meaning than she did. Friendship implied a strong emotional attachment — and that was something Vulcans were not supposed to have at all. It was highly uncommon for a Vulcan to use this word. Humans, on the other hand, seemed to be quick at making friends. Humans were more social beings. When a Vulcan wished to relax, he sought quiet and solitude. Humans sought each other's company.

»You are right,« T'Pol said and looked at Cadet Mahoon. »I should use a different term to refer to Commander Tucker, I am just not sure what that term is.«

The other women giggled.

»Love interest?« Cadet Mohoon suggested helpfully.

»Boyfriend?« Denise offered.

»Future Husband?« Natasha Rostov fell in.

»Oh no.« T'Pol shook her head. »We are not that far.«

But then she hesitated. She wondered silently whether, maybe, they were.

»The problem is that there is no precedence,« T'Pol explained. »I simply do not the exact nature of our relationship. Commander Tucker is a Human and I am Vulcan. We've been brought up differently. We have also had very different experiences in life. Sometimes it is hard for us to communicate.«

T'Pol remembered, fondly, the many times she and Trip had argued.

»At the same time, these very differences are intriguing. Commander Tucker questions my beliefs whenever they appear to contradict his. Naturally, I do the same whenever I don't share his beliefs. Initially, it seemed that he and I could not agree on anything. We often argued, but over time we learned to understand each other. To my surprise, it turned out that we have a lot in common. Sometimes, we understand each other very well.«

The human women were silent for a moment while they imagined what it would feel like to engage on this kind of adventure with a colleague. With an alien colleague, no less.

»What does Captain Archer say about his two Senior Officers going out?« Stephanie asked, eventually.

T'Pol hesitated and looked to the ground. »He does not know.« she said without looking up.

»Right,« the other women said slowly, realizing how difficult T'Pol's situation was. They exchanged silent glances.

»I reckon,« Denise spoke up, »it would be good if it stayed that way. There shouldn't be any talk or rumors.«

»Yes,« T'Pol agreed and looked up again. »When the time is right, Captain Archer deserves to be told personally.«

»Right,« the other Cadets nodded, and for the remainder of the night said no more about the subject.

--

It was well past midnight when the gathering at the lake broke up. Technically, this was too late, but in fact having bent the rules a little had contributed to the pleasantness of the evening. Everyone had to go the same way home and they walked the short distance together, still engaged in lively chatter. There was no sense of urgency, so it wasn't until 1AM that T'Pol finally arrived in her quarters.

She entered the by now familiar room with a sense of relief and exhaustion. The last 24 hours had been eventful and she hadn't been entirely prepared for those events. Still, she was tired in a pleasant way. She felt like an explorer.

For the longest time, she had regarded the path laid out before her as a consequence of past mistakes. Arguably, this was true, but now T'Pol wondered whether it really was that simple. Her mistakes hadn't really been mistakes — they had been choices. She had chosen her path. Some of her choices had been naive and uninformed and impulsive, but others had been wise and fortunate. It was the sum of her choices that had led her here. Ever since T'Pol had joined ENTERPRISE, her path had lead her straight to this point: she was about to become a member of Starfleet. She was by all standards a member of Human society. On Earth, she had found the very thing her own people could not give her: a sense of home.

Out of the corner of her eye, T'Pol noticed the small LED on her comm device that signaled missed calls.

--

Trip lay in bed and wondered. T'Pol had made it clear that she needed space. It was hardly surprising that she felt this way. Still, their conversation hadn't played out like he'd hoped. On the one hand, it disappointed him that he hadn't managed to convey the significance of the subject weighing on his mind. He had come to tell her about his feelings, but it hadn't been possible. He would have liked to talk about his career plans, but that hadn't quite worked out either. Though it now seemed farfetched, he'd half expected they would make plans _together_, but … oh, well.

He could not help being impatient. It felt like he had waited a long time already.

On the other hand, Trip realized he had nothing to worry or be disappointed about. T'Pol just needed some space. She had to get a grip on her life before she got involved in his — and vice versa. It was only a couple of days until she got her commission. Then they would have this conversation again.

»_Anyway …_« he thought. He got up from the bed, and walked over to the living room to check the comm. The last time he had checked the comm was six minutes ago, and he was little surprised to find that no call had come in since then. If a call had come in, he most likely would have heard it.

Trip realized he was wasting time and he also realized that he could not continue to be in this state of mind for the next 26 days.

Following a sudden impulse, he returned to the bedroom and grabbed two bags from a corner. He put them on the bed, opened them, and began to pack his few belongings. In less than half an hour, he was all set and ready to go. He would sleep on COLUMBIA from now on. Nothing calmed him down like having a warp engine nearby.

On his way out, Trip checked the clock: it was half past midnight. With a little luck, he would still be able to get a shuttle at this time. He preferred to travel to COLUMBIA by shuttle. Using the transporter was quicker, but he loved to see COLUMBIA hover in space in her majestic beauty during the approach.

Trip stepped outside, locked the front door, and turned to go. He left without looking back.

--

T'Pol wondered whether she should call him back at this hour. It was quite likely that Trip was asleep. She didn't want to wake him up. On the other hand, Trip would often try to get by on very little sleep. So maybe he was awake just like she was?

She reached for the comm device and initiated the call. When the Starfleet insignia appeared on the screen, her stomach felt as if a swarm of butterflies had been set free. She waited breathlessly for what seemed like an eternity. But all that happened in the end was that the screen displayed "no response", and then switched off.

»_Apparently, he is asleep,_« she thought with just the tiniest little bit of disappointment.

--

The next morning.

--

Trip woke up feeling strangely invigorated despite having slept only a few hours. He got up without hesitation and walked over to the viewscreen to look at Earth from space. He had seen that image countless times, but it never ceased to boggle his mind. While you are on Earth, the planet seems vast and incomprehensibly big. Seen from space, however, that planet was just a tiny blue ball in a vast void. The sight always gave him a fresh perspective.

A part of him had resisted sleeping on COLUMBIA until now. It hadn't felt right. He hadn't thought of COLUMBIA as »his ship«. Last night he had learned that she was. The moment he had felt that engine, he had felt right at home.

Trip realized that he had teased Malcolm unfairly. Malcolm pretended to be considering the move to COLUMBIA although it was quite obvious that he had moved already. Now it occurred to Trip that he might be acting just the same way. He tended to regard ENTERPRISE as something sacred. He had worked and lived on that ship countless hours and loved her from the bottom of his heart. This ship and her crew had become one. To consider leaving ENTERPRISE felt like considering betrayal. This notion, however, was a little naive.

Malcolm _would_ leave ENTERPRISE, … and who could blame him? He would become First Officer of the most advanced starship of the fleet. Not only would this transition benefit him, it would also greatly benefit the crew of COLUMBIA, who could consider themselves fortunate to have this man.

Trip had wondered about this subject recently, but now it baffled him how obvious the answer was. He realized that he would leave ENTERPRISE too.

It wasn't a question of yes or no, it was a question of when.

It felt as if the weight of a mountain had fallen off his shoulders.

--

T'Pol woke up feeling strangely invigorated. By Vulcan standards, she had slept a long time, but by Human standards she was up early. It had never occurred to her before, how convenient this was. On Vulcan, she would have had to be on duty less than 30 minutes after getting up, but here on Earth she had plenty of time before her first class. She had time for herself. For almost two and a half hours, she could do whatever she wanted!

Her daily routine was to sit down in the living room and mediate, but this particular morning, T'Pol felt like straying from her routine. She felt like doing something special.

T'Pol stood up from her bed and walked across the room to the window to look outside. The sun had just begun to rise and she noticed the sky was clear — not a single cloud could be seen. It looked like a beautiful morning.

T'Pol hesitated for a moment, but then she made up her mind.

Today, she decided, she wouldn't meditate in her living room. She would meditate outside, in the park.

--

Trip greeted his crew cheerfully while entering the Engine Room.

»Good morning, Ensigns.«

»Good morning, Commander,« they responded just as cheerfully.

»How are you this morning, Commander? We hope you haven't sustained any injuries during the night?« Ensign Benson enquired with mock concern.

»I feel great, actually. I'm in the mood for some real hard work today. How do you feel, Ensign?«

»Um … actually, I feel a littl—«

»Good, very good. Now, what kind of data do we monitor concerning those Vulcan injectors?«

»Um, I don't know. We have dozens of sensors in the injection stage. All of them monitor the injectors in one way or another.«

»Good, then we'll need to gather all that data from all those sensors and analyze it. I want to know about every glitch and every malfunction we've had in the last 96 hours.«

His crew grew pale.

»You are kidding?«

»No. Those injectors worry me. They work great most of the time, but sometimes they refuse to work and I have no clue why. We can't fly the ship with injectors dropping out on us.«

»What about the design specifications? Weren't we supposed to get them any day now?«

»We are supposed to, but it's been two weeks and we still don't have those plans. To be honest, I don't believe that we should rely on the Vulcans to help us out of this problem. This is _our_ warp engine and our crew-mates rely on us to fly this ship at warp speed no matter whether we get those specifications or not. Right?«

The Ensigns were a little surprised by Commander Tucker's passionate response, but they knew he was right. The general perception had been that until those design specifications arrived, nothing could be done anyway, so they might as well enjoy the easy-going work pace. But if it turned out the Vulcans were simply unwilling to share those documents, the engineers could hardly use that as an excuse to cancel the maiden flight!

»The way I see it,« Trip suggested, »we'll make one more serious effort to find out what is wrong with the Vulcan injectors. We'll report our all our findings and all our sensor data to the Vulcans to make sure they realize these problems are for real, and not just some figment of our imagination. Anyhow, if those darn injectors don't get the job done by the end of the week, I say we pull them out and use our own. Ours may not be as fast, but at least they work.«

»Damn right they work!« Ensign Benson confirmed forcefully. The latest model of Starfleet's warp injectors drew on a design she had proposed in her doctoral thesis.

--

»Alright … that is all for today. Thank you for your attention, Cadets.«

For a moment, the students knocked on the tables to express their appreciation, and T'Pol gladly joined in. In her opinion, the lecture had been excellent. Their microbiology teacher had a gift for making lectures a social experience. Every now and then, he gave them problems to solve. For example, he would present a scan of a newly discovered exo-bio-organism and then challenge them to interpret the data and guess the functions of mysterious organells. T'Pol knew these problems were the subject of ongoing research. Basically, no one knew the answers. From a logical point of view, it was futile to pursue these problems ad hoc in a class room. However, this didn't seem to deter the Humans in the least. They just made up rather fanciful theories and debated them passionately. Several times, it almost seemed the students had worked out an important aspect of the problem, but ultimately the answer would elude them, as it had the experts. This was to be expected. Still, T'Pol had enjoyed her microbiology class.

Eventually, the group dissolved. Morning classes were over and everyone had two hours of spare time, which T'Pol would spend in the Cantina, like most other students. She looked forward to her lunch break.

On her way, she was approached by a young man. T'Pol remembered him from yesterday. He had been at the lake too.

»Hi, Steve,« she greeted him.

»Hi, T'Pol.«

He smiled, but then he looked down, apparently somewhat embarrassed.

»I am glad to see you, T'Pol. There is something I wanted to ask you about.«

T'Pol was surprised. »Of course. What would you like to know?«

»You see … I got my test results yesterday. Math. My favorite subject.«

T'Pol nodded.

»All things considered, the results are better than I expected, but there is something strange. Two of my answers were, apparently, completely wrong. I got zero points for both of them.«

»I see.« T'Pol said.

»I talked to my teacher, but I didn't understand much of what he said. To be honest, I still have no idea why those answers are wrong.«

»Do you have the those results with you?«

The young man looked up, clearly relieved.

»Yes.«

»I am on my way to the Cantina. If you'd like, I could take a look at your test.«

»Sure,« he smiled. »That would be great. Thank you, T'Pol.«

--

Trip rang the doorbell to Captain Hernandez' Ready Room.

»_Come in._«

He stepped inside, carrying a small data disk.

»Hello, Commander. Welcome aboard.«

Trip was momentarily puzzled. »Excuse me?«

»I hear you've moved in.«

»Oh … yes, I did.« Trip was surprised. »How did you know?«

Captain Hernandez laughed.

»I know everything.«

»Ah-ha,« Trip grinned. He held up the disk for her to see. »Then maybe there is no point in me coming to you with this data.«

»By all means.« She laughed and gestured for a chair. »Please remind me.«

Captain Hernandez liked Commander Tucker. He was a gifted Engineer and a natural leader. For all she knew, every single crew-member down in Engineering hoped he would transfer here. Her ship badly needed a capable Chief Engineer.

Ironically, his very qualities made it unlikely that she could win him over for COLUMBIA. Rules of ethical conduct forbade her from making an offer anyway, but in truth there was little she could offer. On ENTERPRISE, Commander Tucker was Malcolm Reed's superior, but on this ship Lieutenant Reed would be First Officer. From Commander Tucker's perspective, transferring into this constellation would be a bad career move. Being third in command on ENTERPRISE was far more prestigious than being third in command on COLUMBIA.

Trip handed her the disk.

»We have analyzed 26 injector failures observed over the last three days,« Trip explained. »Most of the malfunctions are minor, but on at least three occasions a third of the injectors failed at the same time. A failure of this magnitude would collapse our warp bubble in flight.«

»I see.« Captain Hernandez took the disk and put it on her desk. She didn't bother to look at the data herself.

»The Vulcan injectors have a tendency to malfunction. We could fix that, but our chances would be better if we had those specifications.«

»I understand, Commander. I will call the Ambassador to share this.« She tapped on the disk.

Then she fell back in her chair and sighed, clearly frustrated.

»I have to be honest, though. Whenever I did manage to reach him, the Ambassador's explanations were, let us say, … vague. I don't know how much I can achieve.«

»I know that feeling.« Trip sighed. »When a Vulcan doesn't want to talk about something, there's no way to make it happen.«

»What are our chances of remedying the problem without those documents?«

»Ensign Benson has worked up a transition plan. We estimate that we could replace the Vulcan injectors by ours in two weeks.«

Captain Hernandez was surprised. »Ours worked,« she agreed.

»The ship won't reach warp 6 using Starfleet injectors, but I can promise that warp 5 will be like a walk in the park.«

»Commander,« Captain Hernandez said after a moment of silence, »there is something you have to know.« She leaned forward.

»The decision to use Vulcan injectors was made at the top-level. The Vulcans approached us and offered to cooperate. This was generally perceived as a gesture of goodwill. Starfleet very much wants to exchange technology with the Vulcans, and up till this they had always refused.«

Trip nodded.

»Everyone in Starfleet wanted those negotiations to succeed. We were eager to find ways to cooperate. Those injectors sounded like a good-enough start, and so it was decided …«

The political implications began to dawn on Trip.

»We cannot just replace them.«

»If we make that decision, it will embarrass the Vulcan High Command.«

They both said nothing for a while.

»We can fly with the Vulcan injectors,« Trip brought out through slightly clenched teeth. »We cannot go very fast. I'd guess warp 3.5 at most, but then we'd be safe. Of course, if those documents actually arrive, we could probably get those injectors to 100 percent fairly quickly.«

Captain Hernandez relaxed, leaned back in her chair, and considered the situation.

»I'll do my best to get the papers, Commander.«

--

»Steve, you cannot generalize from an _n_-dimensional field into one of infinitely many dimensions. You have to prove that the generalization is true in the specific case you are dealing with.«

»Alright, I understand that. But it _is_ true in this particular case.«

»Yes, it is.«

»So my answer is correct?«

»Yes, it is.«

»Then why didn't I get any points?«

»The proof is inconclusive. It's based on an assumption that, in general, is wrong. You have given the right answer, but you didn't prove it. The chain of logical deductions is incomplete.«

T'Pol could see Ensign Rickman's disappointment.

»It feels unfair,« he mumbled.

»It is.« T'Pol agreed.

She had experienced these problems too when she was a child. Her math teacher would ask her a question, but when she told him the answer, he wasn't satisfied. »_How do you know?_« he had demanded. »_It's obvious._« she had answered, but her teacher didn't appreciate this response. »_I am not interested in the answer to this question,_« he had chided her. »_I know it already. My interest is in observing you apply logical rigor._«

T'Pol looked at Ensign Rickman sympathetically.

»Logic is not supposed to be fair,« she said softly. »It's only supposed to be logical.«

Her thoughts drifted away for a moment, caught up in memories long past. Eventually, she shook her head slightly.

»Don't take these test results too seriously, Steve. Abstract theory may disapprove of your methodology, but still, you did find the answer to the problem. That is what matters out there in the field.«

Ensign Rickman smiled with great relief. Subcommander T'Pol didn't appear to doubt his qualifications despite his mediocre test results. Math was not his favorite subject, but still he tried hard and gave it his best effort. His teacher didn't seem to appreciate this fact, but T'Pol did. She was right. Next time, he would pay more attention to his assumptions. His skills were good enough to pass the final exam, and once that was done with, he'd become a Starfleet Officer and find out what real life is like.

»Thank you, T'Pol,« he said, and held her gaze for a moment.

--

Ambassador Soval bowed his head slightly at the other end of the comm link.

»_Thank you very much for this information, Captain Hernandez._«

The Vulcan raised his left eyebrow a tiny bit, apparently to convey the enthusiasm his voice distinctly lacked.

»_This data will doubtlessly prove invaluable during the analysis of the situation. I'll see to it personally that it is relayed at the next possible opportunity. Please convey to your team my appreciation for having compiled this thorough report._«

»We appreciate your efforts, Ambassador, thank you.«

The Vulcan hesitated an instant, recognizing the sarcasm in her voice.

»_If that would be all …_«

»There is one more thing, Ambassador. My engineering team believes they could repair these glitches fairly easily if they had access to the design specifications of the injectors. Surely you remember our conversation about this topic?«

»_Of course, Captain. I assure you, you have our full cooperation. The delay is entirely the result of the procedures we must operate by. These design specifications are tied to a number of other technologies, some of which are classified. Our legislation does not permit the release of the documents without prior risk assessment. This clearance, I assure you, is being actively pursued at this very moment. It is only a matter of time, before this mere bureaucratic obstacle is resolved._«

»Ambassador, given the fact that this clearance process has been ongoing for the last week, I trust it is rather close to being concluded. Many members of Starfleet would be enthusiastic to receive these documents, say, tomorrow?«

For the briefest moment, the Vulcan appeared to be amused.

»_Unfortunately I can neither confirm nor deny any such estimate. This process must seem like an unnecessary formality to an outsider, but I assure you it was established for good reason and in everyone's best interest. A conclusion will be reached and will then be communicated to you as soon as possible. We appreciate your patience in this matter, Captain._«

--

The Engineering Team had worked long hours today and everyone was tired. They had gathered around a large view-screen to go through their findings one last time.

»And then …. _here_ … there is the feedback loop.« Ensign Stettham froze the data stream and magnified the display to focus on the relevant part of the image.

Everyone could clearly see it. There was that feedback loop.

It happened every time an injector malfunctioned. The puzzling bit was that sometimes it happened briefly before a malfunction, sometimes it happened briefly after a malfunction, and sometimes it happened at the same time. The two events were obviously related, but no-one knew how.

They stared at the data in silence, but eventually Trip interrupted the brooding. He clapped his hands together to get everyone's attention.

»This is far more than we knew this morning, guys. We should be proud. Let's come back tomorrow, and then we'll crack this nut.«

--

T'Pol had been busy all through the day. After classes were over, she had spent more time with the other cadets. Together, they had studied and chatted and generally enjoyed themselves. Eventually, someone brought up the idea of organizing an impromptu picnic by the lake, and then they had spent the rest of their evening relaxing by the water.

On several occasions during this day, T'Pol had helped other students with their homework, or she had answered practical questions about life in space. She had enjoyed sharing her experience. She felt appreciated because the others sought her advice and cared for her opinion. She felt like she had become part of a group. She knew this feeling from ENTERPRISE, of course, but here it was different because her rank seemed to matter so little. Her relationship to the other Cadets was less formal. Everyone called her T'Pol.

All things considered, she was doing well. There was only one tiny little reason for regret, she thought. Trip hadn't been with her.

--

When he finally arrived in his quarters, it was almost midnight. Trip felt tired and began to prepare for bed without further ado. He was exhausted, yet despite the exhaustion there was also a sense of fulfillment. The Vulcan injectors had worried him for several days. Now, he was relieved because he had at last addressed the problem.

There was only one tiny little bit of regret, because T'Pol hadn't been with him today. She knew more about these injectors than any of them. She could have helped them explain this feedback loop.

--

T'Pol wondered whether she should call him. She felt an urge to tell him about her day. So many things had happened that she would like to share! Trip had helped her find her path; he deserved to know now that she was doing fine.

--

Trip wondered whether he should call her. He missed her and he needed her advice. He wanted to know how she was and how her day had been. And more than everything, he wanted to see her face and hear her voice.

--

T'Pol looked at the clock and realized that it was almost midnight. She hesitated to call him. For all she knew, she had probably disturbed him yesterday already. Besides, it was somewhat inappropriate to place repeated late-night phone calls to Commander Tucker.

T'Pol went over to the comm device, displayed the log, and checked whether maybe Trip had called _her_.

He had not.

She wondered why not. Maybe the matter he wished to discuss had been resolved in the meanwhile, so now there was no need to call?

T'Pol realized that, technically speaking, she hadn't encouraged him to maintain frequent contact while she was at the Academy. The Commander was probably trying to honor her wishes.

--

Trip fought a strange battle while staring at the comm screen. His heart said »_Call!_«, but his mind resisted. T'Pol needed space, and so did he. He understood that it was true.

T'Pol needed only 25 days — just a bit over three weeks. That wasn't much, compared to how long they had known each other. He had seen her almost every day for the last three years! So this was just a short break. Why was it that he seemed to miss her so much?

Maybe he had become a little fixated on T'Pol. Starfleet relied on him to get COLUMBIA's warp engine in shape for the maiden flight. That was a tough enough job to keep him fully occupied for three weeks. He quite simply had no time for romance. T'Pol fulfilled her duty to Starfleet with focus, but it appeared that he had become somewhat unfocused. Perhaps he had lost perspective.

For over a year, the Xindi had determined his thoughts, his life, and even his dreams. With the threat resolved, everything urgently important in his life had just disappeared. Suddenly, in place of the »mission«, there was just this void. Maybe he'd hoped T'Pol could fill this void?

He realized he couldn't expect T'Pol to provide the answers to his questions. He had to find his own answers and he had to do that by himself. He could finally see that they both needed space. He made this decision with his mind, not his heart.

Trip went to bed feeling relieved. Tomorrow, he and his team would find the cause of the feedback loop. He could feel it. And the thought made him smile.

--

T'Pol lay on her bed, drifting in pleasant thoughts that revolved around Trip.

After three years of serving together, she felt like she knew him very well. But of all his admirable character traits, there was one she had missed at first. Only now did she realize how patient he was.

She felt wonderfully warm inside.

TO BE CONTINUED


End file.
